


Where the Wolf Prowls

by ThePamsify



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:43:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 64,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7488441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePamsify/pseuds/ThePamsify
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyanna knew she should've said no when her brothers offered for her to accompany them to the Tourney at Harrenhall. She should’ve just minded her own business and stayed in Wintefell. If she had then she probably wouldn't be in the position she was in now: Crown Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. </p><p>Witnessing the different politics and horrifying events that occurred in the Mad King’s court proved to her every day that the court of the Dragon was not a place where the Wolf should prowl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! So this is my first story for ASoIAF/GoT and I'm super nervous for it. 
> 
> The first couple of chapters are a little slow but things will pick up, I promise!
> 
> It's summer and seeing as I have lots of free time, I've already written 5 chapters so I should be able to update every 3-5 days. I'm gonna try to keep on top of the chapter so once the fall semester starts the updates won't lag.
> 
> Any questions or suggestions feel free to leave them. Or if you notice any grammar mistake or something didn't make since let me know. Please let me know what you think!

The throne room always smelled… odd. The Dragon Prince didn’t know if it was the heat, the gathered people, the ancient dragon skulls marring the walls or his festering father, but nowadays it never smelled pleasant.

 _“It probably has something to do with the fact that your father burns whoever he can in that room,”_ Ser Arthur Dayne had said one day when the Prince had brought it up to him.

Rhaegar tried not to grimace as he watched the third person of the day scream in agony as the wildfire burned them to nothing. He looked to his father and his grimaced hardened.

The ‘Mad King’ everyone called him and with good reason, while Aerys’ face was curled into a snarl, his eyes were lit with joy. His snarl almost turned into a crooked smile as the poor soul gave one last screech of pain before the flames completely engulfed him.

There was nothing Aerys loved more in the morning, after the breakfast he hardly ate, then accusing someone of treason and burning them in front of the court.

While the Pyromancer doused the remaining emerald flames with sand, the Mad King turned to his court, his eyes skimming the crowd until they reached Rhaegar’s.

“You boy, come over here,” he snapped.

Rhaegar left his place in the front of the crowd and stood at the foot of the dais. “Your Grace,” he said as he bowed low.

“The Starks in the North are planning something, I know it,” his father said in a harsh tone, his fingers twitching in a nervous tick that had developed during his descent into madness. “They hide away in their frozen wasteland, thinking that I’m not aware of their scheming ways.”

The Dragon Prince tried not to sigh as his father continued his maddening rant. Every week a different noble house was apparently scheming or planning to overthrow the King. Last week it was their cousins in the Stormlands, this week it was the Starks in the North.

“What would you like me to do, Your Grace?” Rhaegar asked, trying to keep his voice from showing the exasperation he felt. “Should I send a reconnaissance group to Winterfell?” His eyes narrowed when he saw the eunuch Varys whisper into his father’s ear.

“The Starks will be attending the tourney at Harrenhal,” The King said once Varys was finished whispering to him. “I want those wretched wolves watched every moment of the day. Every moment! When they eat, when they sleep, even when they shit. Those wolves will not fulfill whatever it is their planning.”

He already had to ‘watch’ the Baratheon’s, the Martell’s, the Tyrell’s, and now he had to watch the Stark’s. For the second time in five minutes, he felt like sighing. “Yes, Your Grace,” Rhaegar said with a tilt of his head.

“Oh and one more thing,” The King added before Rhaegar could turn to leave. “It is time for you to strengthen the Targaryen Dynasty and produce an heir. Seeing as your bitch of a mother cannot successfully give birth to nor keep alive a daughter,” the sneer returned to the King’s face, “you will need to look elsewhere for a wife.”

Rhaegar looked taken aback. He knew his part of his duty as Prince of Dragonstone and heir to King Aerys the Second was to secure the line by producing heirs, but he needed time. He thought it unfair to bring a woman into the Mad King’s court. Especially a woman who was not use to such horrors as people burned alive. He wouldn’t ask it of anyone to marry him right now.

But he had a plan. The Tourney of Harrenhal was in a weeks time and all of the highborn houses would be there. He would then be able to ask them to help him overthrow his father and name him King. It would take a while to overthrow Aerys and get the kingdom settled. That’s why he had asked the King to be able to wait until his twenty fifth year before he took a bride.

“Your Grace, I thought we had agreed on waiting for my twenty-fifth year, that is yet a year and a half away—“

“THINGS ARE CHANGING, BOY!” His father screamed as he stood, spittle flying out of his mouth making him look like a rabid dog. “The highborn houses are planning something every day! We need an heir to secure our line. I will not have the Targaryen Dynasty die because you would rather play your music and find a wife! Find a whore to stick your seed in or I will find one for you!”

Rhaegar bit down on his tongue and bowed his head, masking his face to hide the anger. “Your Grace.”

“You have until the end of the tourney. During the final feast you will proclaim your bride to the court. Understood?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Rhaegar said with final bow.

“Good, get out of my sight.” The King waved him away, his attention going back to Varys as he once again whispered in his father’s ears.

 

 

“Lyanna! Stop showing off,” Benjen whined as she knocked the sword from his hand.

“Come on Ben, you’re gonna let Lyanna beat you, I thought you have been practicing?” Brandon, the eldest Stark, asked as he crossed his arms and leaned against the pillar behind him.  

“I _have_ been practicing,” Benjen angrily huffed out as he flexed his hands.

“Not everyone is meant to be a swordsman,” they heard and Lyanna smiled when she saw her older and much quieter brother Ned standing on the balcony.

“That is true, dear brother, but swordsman or not, it’s rather embarrassing that a girl, our sister no less, can get the upper hand in a sword fight,” Brandon said, smiling wide when he ruffled Benjen’s hair in jest, making the youngest Stark scoff.

“And what is so bad about a girl getting the upper hand in a sword fight?” Lyanna asked incredulously. 

“No offense sister, but it’s not a women’s place to use a sword,” Brandon said. “It’s not right. Their place is in the home, taking care of babes and sewing.”    

Lyanna’s beautiful face scrunched in anger as she held the sword up to him, making Brandon smile. “Come on then brother, let me show you how women aren’t meant to use a sword.”

“Lyanna,” Lord Rickard Stark’s voice called as he came and stood next to Ned, placing a hand on his sons shoulder. “Come to my chancery, I need to speak with you.”

“Anon, papa!” She replied and turned back to Benjen. “Don’t listen to him, baby brother. Keep practicing.” Lyanna pinched his cheek and smiled as he swatted her way.  

Lord Rickard chancery was warm and inviting despite the topics that were frequently discussed in here, like the frequent victims of the wildfire in the king’s court or the wildlings beyond the wall.

“Papa?” She called as she walked in, smiling again when she saw Ned and her father sitting at the grand desk.

Ned had recently returned from his fostering in the Eyrie and seeing him around the castle again made Lyanna’s heart burst with happiness. She had missed her Quiet Wolf.

“Lyanna, sit down there is something we must discuss,” he father said a serious tone to his voice.

She took the seat next to Ned, watching as her father reread the letter in his hands.

“Your brother has brought an interesting letter home with him from the Eyrie. It’s from Robert Baratheon.”

“Robert Baratheon?” Lyanna asked, the name sounding familiar but the face relating to it was foggy.

“Yes, he’s the man who was also fostered in the Eyrie with Ned. You remember him from when he came to visit Winterfell four moons ago, don’t you?”

Lyanna remembered him now, how could one not? He was tall and handsome with an air of command. Gregarious and charming, he was every maidens dream. He was also a whoring bastard who liked to stick his prick in anything that was female. For the time he had been there, she had seen him with almost every maiden in Winterfell.

The two minutes that she spoke to him were longest and most horrid two minutes of her life. She had tried to repress that moment.

“Ah, Lord Robert,” she said as she tried not to cringe, “yes I remember him.”

Lord Rickard hesitated before he spoke, glancing down at the letter again. “He wrote me a letter explaining how you made his visit here a completely bewitching experience.”

Lyanna laughed, “Bewitching? What a ridiculous thing to say. We hardly spoke.”

“Well, something must’ve conspired between you two during those brief moments for he has accepted my offer of your hand in marriage.”

 Lyanna was quiet for a few moments before it finally registered what her father had said, “WHAT?” She asked quizzically before laughing again. “That has to be joke, right? You’re just making a joke.”

“I’m afraid I’m not dearest,” her father said, holding the letter out to her.

The smile dropped from Lyanna’s face as she snatched the parchment from her father’s hands, quickly reading over the letter. A frown gracing her face with every word read.  

“This is most imprudent thing I have ever read. I’d rather be betrothed to Walder the stable boy than that whoring bastard Baratheon.”   

“Lyanna!” Her father said sternly.

“I don’t understand,” Lyanna wailed. “How did this even come about? We spoke only for two minutes. You can’t possible fall in love in two minutes! He doesn’t even know me!”

“There is time during marriage that a person can get to know and grow to love their spouse,” Ned offered, hoping to calm his sister.

“Yes, because I’m sure Lord Baratheon will be concerned about getting to know me as he’s between another woman’s legs.”

“Lyanna!” Ned chastised, but she ignored him.

“And even if he bothers to get to know me, what says he will be a great husband. We hardly even know him!”

“Your brother does very well and speaks nothing but great things about him,” Lord Rickard said.  

Lyanna turned her glare to Ned. “Did you tell father about the two bastard children the great Lord Baratheon has already fathered? And I’m sure there’s a third already on the way.”

 “Lyanna,” her father snapped, his blue eyes turning hard, “enough. The King is getting madder by the day, if he were to turn his armies North under suspicion of treason then the North would never last. We are a powerful people, but we will be unstoppable with the Arryn’s, the Tully’s and the Baratheon’s on our side.”

“Don’t I get a say in my life? Must I too be sold off like cattle like my dear brother Brandon?”

“Lyanna,” Lord Rickard had said with a sigh.

“You’re telling me that I am betrothed to a man who has no concern about anything or anyone but himself. No I lied, the only concerns he has is who has the wine to fill his cup and who will be the next whore to warm his bed.”

“Despite his misdoings, Lord Baratheon is a suitable match for you,” Lord Rickard said. “You will have a wealthy life with him, Lyanna. He will give you give a good name, provide you with a safe home, and give you many strong heirs.”

“What good is a name if the man behind it is dishonorable?” Lyanna snapped.

“What makes you hate him so?” Ned asked a hint of offense in his voice. “Yes, he has bastards and he drinks a lot of wine. But he _is_ a good man. And if he is so besotted by you like he says he is, then I’m sure he will change his ways. Why won’t you give him a chance?”

“Because I don’t _want_ to get married! I don’t want to have to give up my life, my freedom. Papa please, you know that I never wanted to marry.”

Lord Rickard’s eyes became hard again. “I do, and you know that it is unreasonable for a lady of noble birth to live as a spinster in her father’s house.”

“Papa,” she said softly, “please. I don’t want to leave Winterfell.”

“You are six and ten, Lyanna; you are not a child anymore. It is a woman’s duty to leave her father’s house to live with her husband. Robert Baratheon will be your betrothed. So I suggest that during your stay in Harrenhal you get to know Robert well, for you will return with him to the Stormlands where you will stay until your wedding at seasons end.”

Lyanna closed her eyes as she felt tears form. “I hate you,” she said to her father harshly. “I hate you. And you,” she snapped turning to Ned as she stood. “If you knew of Roberts’s infatuation with me then you should’ve burned the letter before it got into fathers hands! I don’t want to speak to either of you again.”

“Lyanna!” She heard both her father and Ned call. “Lyanna come back!”

The Wolf Maid slammed the door, “Walder, my horse!” She screamed as she made her way down to the court yard.

“Lyanna!” Ned called as he chased after her. “Lyanna stop.”

Ned’s call of concern alerted her other brothers that had still been practicing in the court yard of her approach.

“Lya, what’s wrong?” Brandon asked with worry once he saw the bleak look on her face.

Lyanna stormed passed him as Walder came out of the stable with her white mare.

“Lyanna please, we need to talk about this,” Ned said as he caught up to her.

Lyanna mounted her horse before fixing Ned with a hard stare “You should’ve burned that letter before father got the chance to open it!”

“I had no idea of the contents in that letter! Who knew the fool was going to fall in love after a few stories and even fewer spoken words between you.”

“Then you should’ve kept your mouth shut,” she snapped feeling the tears she had been holding back fall. “Just like I should’ve.”

“Lya,” Ned said full of remorse, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—“

“It doesn’t matter now,” she said, turning her gaze to Brandon and Benjen. “Like Brandon, I too am being sold to the highest bidder. I am to marry Robert Baratheon at the end of the season.”

Shock painted their faces as she urged her horse into a gallop, ignoring Ned’s pleas for her to come back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for this hits/bookmarks/kudos! It really warms my soul. 
> 
> Also, in my story Elia is not a bad person simply because we don't know what her and Rhaegar's relationship was really like. Oberyn said Elia loved Rhaegar, but was she in love with him or did she just love him because he was her husband and father of her children? Same with Rhaegar, did he love her or did he feel obligated to her? Did they love each other as friend's or just because their situation commanded it? GRRM said their relationship was 'complex' so there's a lot we don't know and I don't want to make Elia a bad person if she really wasn't. 
> 
> Plus Lyanna doesn't need another enemy in this story, she already has Cersei. 
> 
> If you have any comments or suggestions let me know!

Elia of Dorne was without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women Rhaegar had ever seen. She was slender, with golden skin and long dark hair. She was a smart woman, with a kind heart and a wit about her that made her even more alluring. And when she looked at someone with her ebony eyes it seemed like she was looking into their soul. 

It was a pity that with all of her beauty and intelligence, her health continued to fail her.

“Princess,” Rhaegar said as he bowed to kiss her hand. “I hope the trip here was kind on you?”

The Dornish princess smiled. “It was, Your Highness. I see the King has decided to watch the tourney.”

“Ah, yes, he thought it’d be best to show his subjects that he is still interested in their welfare.”

Elia gave him a knowing look. The Dornish princess had been a friend of his for a long time, starting from when they met at the tourney at the rebuilt Summerhall almost seven years ago. What began as a mild friendship with letters here and there, became a solace to him over the years as their friendship grew stronger. “He’s getting worse isn’t he? Compared to your last letter?” 

Rhaegar sighed, “He’s becoming more paranoid by the second. Almost all of my men have been assigned to monitor all of the noble houses, even yours. People are dying every day because of him and there’s nothing I can do about it! And now he’s forcing me to marry so I can ‘strengthen the Targaryen Dynasty.’”

“You are to marry?” Elia asked with wide eyes. “Has he picked your betrothed?”

“No, surprisingly, he’s allowing me to do it. But I must announce my bride at the final feast,” Rhaegar replied as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Things are not going how I imagined.”

Elia tutted sympathetically as she placed a hand on his cheek, the sunlight highlighting her dark eyes. “You know as well as I do that nothing in life ever goes as planned.”

Rhaegar sighed as he covered her hand with his. “Yes, I know.”

“Have you found your bride, yet?”

“That’s actually why I asked you to meet me here,” the Prince said as he grabbed both of her hands in his. “Before I approach your brothers, I wanted to ask you first for your hand in marriage. You’re the only woman besides my mother that I trust and you never fail to console me, guide me, and humor me. You are a wonderful woman Elia Martell and I would like for you to be my wife.”

“Oh Rhaegar,” Elia said with a breathless smile that stopped the Dragon Prince’s heart. “I am so honored.”

The Prince smiled, relief settling in his chest only to drop when he heard her say a soft but, “But?”

“But I am not the wife you need. You need someone who can provide you with heirs. I cannot do that.”  

“Nonsense,” The Prince said. “I’ll find you the best maester, even if I have to go to the end of the world.”

“Rhaegar,” Elia said with a sigh as she took her hands out of his, “nothing and no one will change my condition. Don’t you think my family has already tried to find the best maesters or the sorcerers with the secret magic trick? Besides, you need someone who will challenge you, someone who will keep you on your toes. I fear we are too similar and you will grow bored of our marriage.”

“Never! I don’t bore of our friendship. And aren’t friendship and marriage almost synonymous?”

Elia laughed. “I guess, but just because a man and a woman are close as friends doesn’t mean they will be compatible for marriage.”

Rhaegar gave a melancholy sigh; he had been so close to finishing one more thing on his plate. “Are you turning down my proposal for marriage Princess Elia Martell of Dorne?”

The Sunspear princess gave him another smile. “I am Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryean of Dragonstone.”

“And here I thought you were going to say yes and solve this problem,” Rhaegar said making Elia laugh again.

“I am truly sorry. But there are plenty of maidens here; I’m sure one of them will catch your eye. And if not, there is always Cersei Lannister.”

 

 

Rhaegar watched as the highborn families and their company set up their camps around Harrenhall. It was almost exciting to have a tourney if it wasn’t for the real reason they were here. He had wanted to discuss the removal of his father in a Great Council with all the Lords of the highborn houses. But he hasn’t gotten the chance to approach any of the houses to ask them for a council for the King had been sticking to his side like a tick.

He was enjoying the quietness up in the battlements, most of his Kingsguard ‘monitoring’ the highborn families, save for Ser Arthur Dayne, who almost never left the Prince's side. The Prince watched as people greeted each other and children chased each other, their titillating laughter lightening up the dreary day, until the smell of lilacs surrounded him.

“Your footing is like a ghost, Spymaster, but it is your perfume that gives you away,” Rhaegar said, not turning to the eunuch. 

“Even a ghost must give off a sent, Your Highness, for how will the haunted know they are being visited?”

The Prince said nothing. To him, Varys was untrustworthy. If anyone in the realm was scheming something it was him. The Spider. The Spymaster. The Master of Whispers. With his little birds and ghost like steps, spying on the realm and creating chaos to further himself. He often wondered if it was the whispers from Varys that drove the King further into madness.

“It is always such a joyous occasion when the families of the highborn come together,” Varys said after a few moments of silence. “Their faux friendships hiding the fact that the only reason they attended at all is to have the chance of throwing their wealth and power in each other’s faces while quietly besmirching the King.”

They watched as the three Stark boys made their way towards their tents. Their muddy fur trimmed cloaks and pale skin giving them away instantly. “Not the Starks of Winterfell though,” Varys continued. “They are the most noble of the highborn houses. I’ve never heard them speak ill of your father despite his…sickness.”

The Starks were the protectors of the Northern part of the realm. They were a tight knit kin that hardly left their territory. Hardly seen or heard from, except for the reports the Lord of the North sent monthly. Rhaegar barely knew anything about them besides the knowledge that Rickard Stark was the current Lord of the North, their sigil was the dire wolf and they had the blood of the First Men.

The Dragon Prince turned his attention to some boys as they began to pick on a Crannogman. He was about to command them to stop, when a woman with a fur trimmed cloak came towards them brandishing a sword, making the attackers flee in fright. But not before the woman kicked one in the leg, making him stumble.

“I see that the She Wolf of Winterfell is attending the tourney,” Varys said as they watched the only female Stark bend to help the poor Crannogman. “Such a ferocious little being for one that has just become of age.”

Rhaegar barley glanced at him, “I didn’t even know Lord Stark had a daughter.”

Varys nodded, “No surprise, Lord Stark did well to shield his daughter from the horrors of court. I hear she is quiet the beauty. Then again most Northern women are; they seem to possess a type of wild refinement that is not found anywhere else. It’s almost as if they had been polished by ice.”

He continued to ignore Varys, watching as the Stark and the Crannogman made their way towards the Stark encampment. Even from up here Rhaegar could see that she was short and tiny in nature. The Crannogman had to practically bend himself over her to stay upright.  

“Perhaps she is the ice for you fire. Didn’t the prophecy say that the Promised Prince is of Ice and Fire?”

Rhaegar froze, his attention turned to the Spider. “What did you just say?” He hadn’t told anyway about that prophecy, except for Arthur and he knew the White Cloak would never betray his trust by telling.

“I’ve read the scrolls, Your Highness, I know about the prophecy. Lady Stark happens to be of Northern blood. Ice runs through her veins.”

Rhaegars mind moved a mile a minute. The Stark children where rarely seen at court which would explain why he never thought of the She Wolf before. But could it be that she was the other half of the prophecy, the ice to his fire? “Tell me more,” he said, his heart racing, “quickly tell me more.”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Your Highness as there really is nothing else to tell, except of her pending betrothal to your eldest cousin in the Stormlands.”

Rhaegar’s mind stopped. “She’s betrothed? To Robert, no less?”

“Nothing is official…yet. My little birds in the North have whispered to me that it is not a betrothal that the She Wolf is happy with. Though her father is, he seems to worry about the King turning his army North under the suspicion of treason. If that were to happen and he had the aid of the Stormlands, along with House Arryn and House Tully, your father’s army would stand no chance infiltrating the North.”

She was betrothed to his cousin. It was beneath a man to turn the attention of another man’s betrothed, especially if the man was family. But if she is the other half needed to complete the prophecy then he was willing to take the risk of spoiling his honor and good name.  

“You Highness, you can’t possibly be thinking of breaking Lord Baratheon’s betrothal?” Arthur, who had been quiet up until now had said. “It is immoral and you know Baratheon will not take to it lightly having something taken away from him, especially if it is a woman.”

“If Lady Stark is the other half needed to fulfill the prophecy, wouldn’t it be beneficial to break the betrothal off? It is for the good of the people after all,” Varys said.

“And what makes you think that Lady Stark will even agree to a betrothal to you?” Arthur said. “She does not even want to marry Lord Baratheon, why would she want to marry The Prince?”

“While Lord Baratheon is a good man at heart, it is his dishonorable actions that turn Lady Stark’s thoughts about him sour,” Varys said.

“Your Highness, please think this through. Lady Stark is a young woman with no knowledge of court life. If she didn’t want to be Lady of the Stormlands than why would she want to be Crown Princess and eventually Queen of the realm?”  

“Those who do not want to rule are often the ones most fit for it,” said Varys.

Rhaegar couldn’t deny that both Varys and Arthur had made good points, but he would do what was necessary to fulfill the prophecy. “If she knew of the prophecy I’m sure she’d agree.”

“Rhaegar—

“Arthur,” Rhaegar said holding his hand up to cease his best friend’s argument. “I’m at least going to try. Maybe I can convince her.” He turned to look at Varys, “Tell me, what can I do to garner her favor?”

“I cannot help you there, Your Highness seeing as I do not know what possess a woman’s heart. However, my little birds tell me that the She Wolf does love music and winter roses.”

 

 

Lyanna walked among the tents, trying to enjoy the friendly atmosphere but couldn’t shake the sadness that consumed her. It didn’t help that Robert had been a constant presence in their tents since they arrived earlier that morning, his boisterous personality and loud voice grating on her every nerve. ‘Get used to it, Lyanna, you’re going to have to deal with that the rest of your life,’ she thought as she angrily wiped away a stray tear. 

Her melancholy thoughts were interrupted when she heard a group of boys laughing as another cried for them to stop.

Running towards the source of the voices, she saw three boys not even five and ten kicking and beating a man in fatal position, his pleas for them to stop being ignored.

The anger in her swelled to an insurmountable level. Grabbing the closest jousting sword the She Wolf stormed towards them. “Hey!” Lyanna screamed alerting the attackers of her presence. “That’s my father’s man you’re kicking!”

Swinging the sword with ease, she watched in satisfaction as the three boys scattered in terror, kicking one swiftly in the leg making him stumble.

“Cowards!” She yelled after them. Turning her attention to the man still crouched on the ground; she felt sympathy overtake her anger. “Hey,” she called gently, “are you able to stand?”

The man looked at her, his green eyes vibrant against the green of the grass. He moved slowly, wincing. “I believe I can.”

Lyanna helped the man stand and noticed his attire. “You’re a Crannogman!”

“I am, my Lady. I am Howland Reed, Lord of Greywater Watch.”

The Wolf Maid smiled, “So you truly are my father’s man, I am Lyanna Stark. Please, come with me. I will bring you to my brother’s tent where I can tend to your wounds.”

“You are kind, my Lady,” Howland said as Lyanna helped him through the encampment.

“Please, call me Lyanna,” she said barging into Ned’s tent. “Ned! Help me!”

“Lyanna!” He said with worry as they walked in.

“What happened? Who is this?” Brandon asked as he and Ned helped Howland towards his cot.

“This is Lord Howland Reed of Greywater Watch. I found him being beaten by some squires,” Lyanna said as she quickly plaited her hair to keep it out of her face. “These are my brothers, Brandon, Eddard, and Benjen.”

“Please, it’s just Howland,” the Crannogman said as he winced when he was sat down.

“Take off his shirt, I need to examine his ribs. Benjen, bring me some linens and the basin of water.”

“And where did you learn how to check for broken ribs?” Benjen asked as he grabbed the supplies.

“Unlike others, I actually listened to Maester Luwin’s lectures,” the Wolf Maid said as she warmed her hands “Deep breath.” Gently pressing her hands against Howland’s ribs, Lyanna tutted at all of the bruises. “Any discomfort?”

Howland shook his head as Lyanna continued to move her hands. “It doesn’t feel like anything is broken. There will be bruising, but you should be fine. I still suggest you go to a maester, especially if it becomes painful when breathing.” 

“No thank you, we Crannogman are resilient.”

“Who attacked you, friend?” Ned asked as he brought over more linen.

“I’m not sure; I didn’t get a look at their sigils.”

“I did,” Lyanna said with bite, gently cleaning the cuts on Howland’s forehead. “House Haigh, House Blount, and House Frey. Those cowards! They’re supposed to be future knights. Where’s the honor in beating a man when it was three to one and unprovoked?”

“You should defend your honor!” Benjen cried. “I’ll find you a horse and some armor.”

“No Ben,” Ned had said after Howland failed to reply. “We don’t need any trouble. It will bring the Kings attention on to us. We don’t need that.”

“But you must sit with us during the feast tonight!” Lyanna said as she finished tending to his wounds.

“Oh, no I can’t,” Howland said with a blush. “I’m not highborn.”

“Of course you’re a highborn!” She said stubbornly. “You have a right to sit with us just as much as anyone else attending this tourney! We will find something for you to wear.”

 

 

The feast was a loud and festive occasion. People danced and laughed as they ate and drank everything in front of them. Lyanna smiled, watching as Howland laughed as Brandon teased poor Ned who was too shy to go and talk to the beautiful Ashara Dayne.

“Stop teasing him,” Lyanna she told Brandon, soothing her voice when she spoke to Ned. “You should go and talk to her, Ned. She’s been eyeing you all night, there’s no way she’d deny you a dance.”

Ned shook his head trying vainly not to look at the beautiful Dornish woman.

Brandon sighed loudly as he shook his head, “Enough of this,” he said as he stood.

“Bran, what are you doing?” Ned asked his eyes wide with alert. Brandon ignored him as he approached Ashara, who had been speaking to Princess Elia of Dorne.

Brandon bowed to the Princess before whispering into Ashara’s ear. It was when the Dornish woman’s eyes went to Ned and she smiled, did it set in what Brandon had done.

“Oh no, please tell me he didn’t,” Ned said, humiliation clear as day on his face.

Brandon and Ashara approached with the violet eyed beauty stopping in front of Ned.

“Eddard,” she greeted with a smile. “Will you share a dance with me?”

Ned blinked at her before nodding. “I would love to.”

“Ooh,” Brandon said, calling attention to Ned, “Ned’s gonna dance with Ashara.” The men at their table hollered and jeered, even quiet Howland Reed who loosened up after three cups of wine. The attention made Ned turn the color of an apple.

“Knock it off you guys,” Lyanna said, taking pity on her poor quiet wolf.

“Well, my work here is done,” Brandon said as he stood again. “I’m going to join my betrothed at her table.” 

Lyanna smiled at him, squeezing his outstretched hand. It was nice that Brandon had warmed up to the idea of marrying Catelyn Tully. When it was first announced, Brandon, the wild wolf that he was, destroyed everything in his path before storming into the Godswood. He didn’t return for three days.

But now it was like that hadn’t happened at all as he kissed the redheaded woman’s hand and smiled fondly at something she had said to him while placing a piece of stray hair behind her ear.

It gave her hope that maybe she could learn to be fond of Robert. Speaking of the boisterous Lord, she had been vigilantly ignoring his blatant staring all night. She was almost surprised that he hadn’t asked her to dance. Then again, his serving girl had a large bust and just happened to flaunt that in his face every time she bent to pour his wine.

Brandon and Catelyn joined Ned and Ashara as the music changed into an upbeat tune, making the dancers change the pace of their dancing. After another cup of wine, Howland asked her for a dance.

Lyanna set Robert to the back of her mind as she switched partners and danced with Ashara.

“I just adore your brother!” Ashara said to her over the loud music and laughing. “I’m glad he’s dancing with me, even if your other brother had to ask for him. I’ve been eager for him to come and talk to me.”

“For someone so amazing, he’s so shy,” Lyanna said, spinning the Dornish beauty around making her laugh. “But I’m glad you two are finally talking for he has been infatuated with you since he first met you.”

“Really?”

Lyanna smiled and nodded, going back to Howland like the dance commanded. Ashara’s smile widen as she went back to partner with Ned.  

The minstrels slowed the music to a stop after one more song. Everyone returned to their seats as Lord Whent came forward. “Lords and Ladies, bannerman and knights, thank you for being able to join us on this festive occasion. As a token of appreciation, Prince Rhaegar would like to play a song.”

Everyone in the hall clapped as a tall, handsome silver haired man come forward, his dark indigo eyes not looking at anyone in particular. He bowed slightly, but said nothing as he sat in the chair that was brought for him. After getting comfortable, he began to pluck a melancholy melody from his lute, his somber aura a perfect match for the sad song. He painted a beautiful scene.

Lyanna knew this song well; it had been her theme since the announcement of her betrothal. It was a song about loss of innocence and freedom. How the world is beautiful when you’re young, until the harsh realities creep up on you with age.

The She Wolf felt all of her emotions well and tried desperately to keep the tears from falling.

But when the beautiful silver prince plucked the final cord and the song faded, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. As the crowd cheered, Lyanna cried. She cried for her innocence, for her freedom, and for the world that was no longer beautiful to her.

“Are you crying?” Benjen laughed. “It’s just a song! Why do women always get so emotional over songs?”

Lyanna glared at him, tears still falling as her anger again welled in her heart. Of course he wouldn’t understand. He was still a child in many ways. “Shut up, Benjen!” She hissed as she stood and poured the wine from her goblet over his head, not caring that she had many eyes on her as she stormed out of the feast.

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has given my story a hit/kudo/bookmark/comment. I was not expecting anyone to really read it. It seriously makes me so happy, so again thank you all so much!!! 
> 
> Also, like I mentioned the first few chapters are slow and boring, so please hang in there! 
> 
> As always, if you have any questions or suggestions let me know.

“You’ll be alright, Howland,” Lyanna said quietly sitting on the edge of his cot in Ned’s tent, gently pushing back his dark brown hair from his forehead. She had seen Brandon many times like this to know that his sickness was simply from drinking too much. “It’s just morning fog, drink plenty of water and eat some bread, you should feel better in no time.”

Howland made a small noise of acknowledgment as she stood.

“Where is, Ned?” She asked Benjen. “And Brandon?”

“Brandon left early this morning to go watch the joust with his _new_ family and Ned left an hour ago to see _Ashara_.” Benjen said his face scrunched in anger. “By the way, Lord Baratheon was looking for you. He wants to watch the next joust with you,” he said before storming out of the tent.

“Ben?” Lyanna called as she followed him after him. “Ben, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong; I just want to be alone.” Ben said. “I should get used to it, seeing as I’ll be all by myself soon.”

“What do you mean?” Lyanna asked as she finally grabbed his arm to stop him.

Benjen ripped his arm away from her. “I mean that everyone is leaving me! Ned will be betrothed to Ashara at the rate this is going so he’ll leave for Dorne, you’re betrothed to Robert Baratheon and will be leaving for the Stormlands and Brandon is betrothed to Catelyn. I’m going to be all _alone._ ”

“Bran isn’t leaving Winterfell,” she offered as she saw her brother struggle with tears.

“But he’ll be _married_. And then he’ll have kids and I’ll be less important.”

“Oh Ben,” Lyanna cooed as she brought him into a hug. “Just because everyone is getting married doesn’t mean you’re going to be less important or alone. Yes, I am going to the Stormlands and Ned will probably go to Dorne, but you will always be important to us. Even to Bran.

“Just think, until you have a bride of your own, you’ll be in Winterfell watching and playing with our future nieces and nephews. Teaching them everything you know. And you’re always welcome to the Stormlands. So you’ll never be alone and forgotten, Ben, never.”

Benjen squeezed her tighter. “I don’t want you to leave.”  

Lyanna closed her eyes, griping her brother’s tunic. While she loved all of her brothers dearly and equally, Benjen always had a special place in her heart. The Wolf Pup was her only brother to not be fostered elsewhere, so they had spent most of their time together. She never thought that her betrothal would affect him just as much as it affected her. “I don’t want to either. But duty is duty and it must be done. We have another six days, let us enjoy them while we can, okay?”

Benjen nodded as they pulled away and Lyanna smiled at him. “Everything will be alright, Ben. For now, let’s focus on avenging Howland.”

“But Ned said not to, it’ll attract the attention of the King.”

“It’ll only attract the attention of the King if we participate for the rest of the tourney. We’re only jousting tomorrow and only those three knights. We will need to find armor.”

“Leave it to me!” Benjen said, leaving his sisters side to hunt for spare armor.

Lyanna watched him go. Her heart dropping as she went over their conversation. If only her father knew what her betrothal was causing.

“Excuse me, my Lady,” Lyanna heard and turned to see a White Cloak. He had blond hair and the most exquisite colored eyes. 

“Ser,” she greeted as she slightly bowed. “What can I help you with?”

“I am Arthur Dayne, my Lady,” the Kingsguard said, “I was wondering if you have seen my sister Ashara? I would like to escort her to the next joust.”

“I believe her and my brother Eddard are already there, Ser.”

The knight didn’t look surprised. “Really?”

Lyanna nodded. “Ever since the night of the feast the two of them have been inseparable. He woke early this morning just to make sure he could escort her to the first joust. I haven’t seen them since.”

Suddenly the three bullies from the first day appeared, jeering at her. “Oh look, it’s the gallant She Wolf,” the Blount squire said, “and with a White Cloak. Are you whispering lovely words to him to lure him back to your lair?”

“Be careful, Ser,” The Frey squire said, “the She Wolf will bring you to her lair and eat you, just like she did to the Crannogman.”

“Are they bothering you, my Lady?” Arthur asked as he subtly grabbed the hilt of his sword.

Lyanna shook her head before turning to the squires. “Then I guess you shouldn’t be provoking me then, should you? Seeing as I’m on the prowl. If I can’t eat him then I’ll have to come after one of you now won’t I?” She said as she snapped her teeth in warning.

The smiles died on the three squire’s faces, making Lyanna smirk. “Leave my sight before my friend here in the Kingsguard disposes you.”

The three squires ran, yelling at others to stay away from the ‘crazy wolf bitch.’

“How unsavory,” Arthur said in displeasure, “they do not deserve to be squires. I should speak to the knights of the house they serve.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” The She Wolf said. “They’ll get what’s coming to them.”

 Arthur looked at her. “That was very brave of you to defend your Crannogman friend the other day.”

Lyanna looked at him with wide eyes. “You saw?”

“Aye, the Prince too, it’s very rare to see a woman, let alone a woman of high birth, brandish a sword.”

“Growing up with brothers and only a father, a woman learns the man’s sport. It was cowardly for them to beat a man when it was an unfair and unprovoked match. I could not just stand by and do nothing. There is a saying our gods passed down to us, that has become the creed of the North: ‘what is a man if he does not try to make the world better?’”

Arthur smiled a small smile. “You definitely live up to that northern creed, Lady Lyanna.”

 Lyanna smiled and bowed her head. “Thank you, Ser Arthur.”

“Shall I escort you to the joust; it should be starting any minute?”

“Oh—uh,” Lyanna stumbled over how to decline him. She didn’t want to seem suspicious, “how kind of you but I’m actually waiting for my younger brother. He just went off to find our friend Howland. They should be back in a few moments. But thank you.”

Arthur nodded his head. “I’ll see you at the joust then, Lady Lyanna.”

Lyanna bowed her head again as Ser Arthur walked away.

“Lya!” Ben called as ran her way, a large cloth bag over his shoulder. “I found some armor!” He whispered to her. “I even found a blank shield.”

“Great find, Ben!” Lyanna said as she took the shield from his other hand, looking to make sure no one was watching them. “Quick, let’s go to my tent.”

 

 

“And who will be the knight?” Howland asked as he helped Benjen lay out the old, dull armor, his face much brighter now that his morning fog had passed. “Neither Ben nor I are jousters. I fear that if we were to go out there and fail, it’ll only bring shame onto us, me more so.”

“We can always ask Ned or Bran—

“No Ben!” Lyanna snapped. “They cannot know. Seeing as it’s just the three of us, I’ll be the jouster.”

“You?” Both Howland and Ben asked eyes as wide as saucers. “But you’re a woman!” Benjen said.

Lyanna glared at him. “Yes me and so what if I’m a woman? I’m the best rider in the North, and with my hair under the helm and my breast hidden beneath the armor, no one will ever be able to tell I am a woman.”

“Lyanna, you’ve already defended my honor once,” Howland said. “I cannot ask you to do it again.”

“You’re not asking me. I’m _telling_ you that I am going defend your honor. Those fools’ actions were unjust! They do not deserve to be knights, and I’m going to tell them so as my winning terms.”

“I will forever be in your debt, my Lady,” Howland said as he bowed to her and kissed both of her hands.

Lyanna gave him a soft look and smiled. “We are Northmen, we are family,” she said squeezing his hands. “You will owe me nothing.”

“What will be your sigil?” Benjen asked as he held up the blank shield. 

Lyanna looked at Howland and remembered the creed, which was what had started all of this in the first place. She went to one of the books sitting on the table and opened. It was a religious book that Old Nan had given her, fables from the old gods themselves. “I have an idea,” she said as she held up the picture.

 

 

Rhaegar sat with his face leaning against his hand as he tried not to look as bored as he felt. The joust hadn’t even started yet and he was already bored, which made his mind wander to Lady Stark.

The She Wolf wasn’t present for the joust _again_. She wasn’t present for Ser Jaime Lannister’s Kingsguard induction; she isn’t and has not been present for any of the jousts so far. The only thing she has been present for was the welcoming feast, which he never got the chance to talk to her because when his song ended the She Wolf dumped her wine on the Wolf Pup and stormed out.

“Boy!” The King rasped as he turned to look at Rhaegar, his normal madness simmered to a mere boil now that Ser Gerold Hightower was standing next to him.

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was the only person that could make the Mad King calm, not even Varys and all of his whispers had that power. The Dragon Prince suspected that Ser Gerold made the King feel safe, which was one of his huge paranoia’s.

“How has the search for your new whore been? Have you found any other besides that lion bitch Cersei Lannister?”

“I have met plenty of maidens, Your Grace” Rhaegar said. The gods knew he has met plenty of maidens. Every step he took one seemed to be in his path. “But, none that I feel are—" he struggled with a word that the King would agree with, “worthy enough to carry the heir to the Targaryen Dynasty. But I am looking.”

King Aerys nodded, “As long as it’s not that Lannister cunt.  Those Lannister’s, always scheming and always smirking,” Aerys said the sneer back on his face. “Tywin offered his daughter to be your bride once and I laughed at him right in his face. Such a union is beneath you and I told him so.”  

“Well that explains why he isn’t here,” Rhaegar said. He briefly glanced towards the stands and saw the Golden Lioness. Cersei was a thing of beauty. With long golden hair and sharp green eyes that reminded him of a cat. Her face was always set into a smug smile, like she knew something that others didn’t. There was something about her that rubbed the Prince the wrong way; apparently it rubbed his father the wrong way too.

“I guess it’s a good thing that Tywin had mentioned that,” Jon Connington murmured to him from his other side. “It made the King so angry that he almost agreed immediately when Varys had offered that you should be given the chance to choose your own bride.”

“What?” Rhaegar asked turning to Jon with shock. “It was Varys who recommended that?”  

Jon nodded. “He had made the point that if the highborn houses were planning an overthrow, then it would be wise for you to marry one of the maidens from those houses, for a highborn house and their ally’s wouldn’t attack the King if a daughter was married to you. And seeing as you’d be keeping a ‘close eye’ on the families of suspicion, you’d be able to pick the girl who you feel would give you the ‘strongest heirs.’”

Rhaegar shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was. Varys always had something up his sleeve. The Dragon Prince didn’t know what the Spider wanted in return for the ‘favor,’ but he knew he’d be approached about it eventually.

The trumpets blew signaling the beginning of the joust. The knight from House Haigh went to his side of the wall as the crowd murmured with curiosity as the opponent knight approached. The knight wore miss-matched armor that had dulled with age and had a laughing weirwood crudely painted on his shield.

Even from his position at the top of the stands, Rhaegar could see that the knight was short and tiny in stature, his armor almost too big for him. His helm covered his entire head with just two slits for the eyes.

“Who is that knight?” Ser Barristan Selmy asked.

“I’m not sure, I don’t recognize the sigil,” Ser Gerold Highwater replied.

Lord Whent’s maiden daughter waved the flag, “Let the joust between Knight of House Haigh and Knight of the Laughing Tree begin!” She said and threw the flag signaling the start of the joust.

“Whoever it is, they have no chance of winning they’re as tiny as a woman!” Jon said.

“It is not that size of the man that counts, but the skill,” Arthur said. “The Knight of the Laughing Tree could have a higher skill level. They sure ride a horse better than Ser Haigh.”   

The two jousters rode towards each other, their horses kicking up the dust. It only took a few moments for the lance of the mystery knight to smash into the Haigh knight’s breast plate, knocking the knight off his horse.

The Haigh knight hit the ground with a resounding thud. The stands were quiet for a moment, before they stood and cheered for the new winner.

King Aerys stood as the mystery knight rode towards him. “Knight of the Laughing Tree, you have won the joust against House Haigh. What are your terms?”

“The only terms I have, Your Majesty,” the knight said his booming voice almost sounding unnatural, “is that the Knight of House Haigh teaches his squire honor.”

The crowd cheered again as the knight of House Haigh stood and grabbed his squire’s ear as he angrily yelled at him.  

King Aerys nodded, dismissing the knight as he sat back down.

That days tourney continued with the Knight of the Laughing Tree coming out as the victor, their only terms where for the defeated knight to teach their squires honor.

Rhaegar watched as the interest in the King’s eyes slowly began to turn to mistrust.

The Knight of the Laughing Tree knocked his final opponent off his horse, a knight from House Frey. The Frey knight hit the ground with a tumble, his shoulder clearly being dislocated.

The King’s eyes were narrowed in suspicion as he stood, the knight bowed to him as he approached the stands. “Knight of the Laughing Tree, you have won, what are your terms.”

“The same terms as the others, Your Majesty. That the Knight of House Frey teaches his squire honor!”

“Who is this mystery knight?” Robert Baratheon hollered abruptly. “I demand we know who it is!”

The crowd cheered in agreement and Rhaegar noticed the mystery knight’s grip tighten on his horse’s reigns, as if he was planning to ride.  

“You have won the three tourneys of the day, Knight of the Laughing Tree,” the King said his anger slipping through his neutral tone, the air around him tense. “Reveal yourself so that all may honor you tonight at dinner.”

Rhaegar was hoping that the knight was not so stupid as to defy the Mad King, but the mystery knight shook his head making the King see red. “If you do not reveal yourself to me boy, you will suffer the consequence of death. Now reveal yourself!”

The mystery knight again shook his head, his legs tightening on his horse just as the Aerys screamed “Kingsgaurd, cease him!”

The mystery knight kicked his horse into a gallop before any of the Knightsguard could react to the Kings command. “Rhaegar!” Aerys shouted, the seething rage he felt plain on his face. “Find that knight and bring that treasonous bastard to me! Do not let him escape!”

The knight’s horse galloped across the exit threshold just as Rhaegar and Arthur mounted their horses, kicking them into a hard gallop as they followed the knight into the Godswood.

 

  

 

“Faster, please faster,” Lyanna pleaded with the horse as she kicked its side to make him go faster, taking her further into the Godswood.  

She knew she was being chased and that her horse was no match for the destrier horses of the Kingsguard. But she wasn’t going to let them catch her. Like hell she and her family would be brought to the King to be killed. She needed a distraction.

Looking around, the She Wolf heard the horse snort in exertion and got an idea. If they caught sight of her horse, then they would follow it, giving her the chance to flee.

“Thanks for the help, old boy,” she said to the horse, giving its neck a quick pat before she flung herself off of it.

Lyanna landed with a loud thud, her armor absorbing most of the shock from the fall. It took a couple of seconds for the Wolf Maid to regain her senses, her ribs throbbing. Taking off her helm, Lyanna shook her head to clear the fog. ‘I need to get rid of this armor,’ she thought and threw the helm.

She started to run, shedding the armor as she went, making sure to throw the pieces in different directions. It wasn’t until she was left in just her riding breeches and one of Ned’s dark tunics did she slow to a walk trying to catch her breath.

She walked until she came to the largest weirwood in the forest. Pushing her hair away from her face, the Wolf Maid sat her shield against one of the large roots and unsheathed the sword from its belt, throwing it a few feet in front of her. She sat down and leaned back against the base of the tree. Her ribs ached from where the lance from the knight of House Blount hit her and her fall from the horse only made the pain worse. But she had checked and nothing felt broken.

Lyanna thought back to the joust and became overjoyed. ‘I did it!’ She thought as she laughed in disbelief. ‘I actually did it. I won not just one joust, but three!’ “Who says a woman can’t do what a man can?”

She heard the whinny of a horse and shot up in alarm. A knight was coming to stop, his horse snorting in exertion. The knight was obviously part of the Kingsgaurd, with his destrier and gold armor. All he was missing was the white cloak.  

“Knight of the Laughing Tree!” The White-Cloak called his voice louder under the helm. “Come forward calmly and I swear no harm will come to you.”

“I refuse, Ser! Stay away from me or I will strike you with whatever I can,” Lyanna said as the knight approached her.

Panicked the She Wolf grabbed the closest thing to her. “I said stay away from me!” She screamed as she threw the stone. “I refuse to be taken to the King.”

It made a loud clang as it hit the knight’s helm, but it did not deter her pursuer. Moving quickly, Lyanna ignored the pain in her ribs and grabbed the sword that was lying a few feet in front of her and held it up to the knight. “I’m telling you, stay away from me!”

“Please my Lady, I mean you no harm,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I will not turn you in to the King. I swear to it.”

“I don’t believe you!” Lyanna said  

“On my honor as a knight, no harm should befall upon you, Knight of the Laughing Tree.”

“Take off your helm and show your face to me!” Lyanna demanded, holding the sword a little higher. “That way if you are to go back on your word I can tell the gods who to punish!”

She heard the knight laugh lightly before taking his helm off, the knights long silver hair almost blending into the golden armor. “On my honor as the Prince of Dragonstone, I swear no harm will come to you.”

Lyanna immediately recognized the beautiful Prince Rhaegar’s smiling face making dread fill her stomach and her heart stop.

“Your Highness!” She gasped as went to the ground and bowed, her heart pounding out of her chest in fear. “Please forgive me; I did not see you!”   

“Your aim suggests otherwise.”

Lyanna clenched her eyes shut, she was so fucked. “I understand that striking his Royal Highness in anyway is a punishment of death.”

Prince Rhaegar laughed again and Lyanna thought it was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. “Yes my Lady, but you’ll find that I am quite lenient, please,” he said holding out his hand to her, “stand.”

 Lyanna’s heart still pounded in her ears. She stared at him with apprehension, her eyes going from his face to his hand as she tried to decipher if he was playing a trick. But his face was open and friendly, with just a hint of the melancholy that seemed to follow him.

Slowly, she placed her hand in his much larger one, allowing him to gently pull her up, hissing quietly as the tug irritated her bruised ribs.

“I am sorry, Your Highness, you’re not wearing your trademark armor, if I had known it was you I would not have thrown the rock.”

The Dragon Prince only grinned wider. “To make up for it my Lady, you can tell me your name, so that I may know who is truly the Knight of the Laughing Tree.”

Lyanna swallowed, still feeling ill at ease. What if this was a ploy so he could tell the King that the daughter of Lord Stark struck him, ultimately leading to her and her family’s death? But as she looked into his dark indigo eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity in them. “I’m Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, Your Highness, daughter of Rickard Stark, Lord of the North.”

“You’re a ferocious wolf indeed,” Rhaegar said as her assessed her, laughing at Lyanna’s disgruntled expression.

They were quiet for a few moments as Rhaegar stared at her, his hand still holding on to hers. “Can I, um, have my hand back?” She asked softly, adding an even softer “Your Highness.”

The Prince looked surprised for a moment before letting her hand go. She immediately put it back to her side.  “Well Lyanna Stark, Knight of the Laughing Tree, what are we going to do? My father demands for me to bring the knight to him, yet it seems the he has escaped.”

Lyanna looked at him with wide wary eyes. “You can take a piece of armor back,” she offered, her hand itching to lift the sword and hold it to the Prince’s throat in defense. But he was giving her no signs of falsehood, so she sheathed her sword. “All I’ve got left is my shield though, I’ve scattered all of other pieces.”

“Then the shield will have to do,” Rhaegar said, walking over to the base of the tree and grabbing the shield. He stood in front of her once again as they heard a group of horses and men shouting in the distance. “My men will be here soon, you should go.”

Lyanna could only nod, still in disbelief that the Prince was pardoning her. As she turned to run, she stopped. “If I may speak freely, Your Highness, why are you letting me go? The King has asked for my death and I’m sure you’ll be at the receiving end of his anger.”

Prince Rhaegar sighed. “The King is—not in the right state of mind right now. You’re very honorable, Lady Lyanna, and there’s not many people like you in the world. It would be a shame for you to be killed just because the King saw it as an insult that you refused to take off your helm.”

“I-I can understand, I had no right deny the King’s command.”

“He had no right to demand that from you,” Rhaegar countered. “You should get going; I can hear them getting closer.”

Lyanna quickly bowed one more time before darting off, running until her lungs burned and her legs felt like they were about to collapse.

 

 

Rhaegar watched as Lyanna ran away, a smile spreading across his lips. She was everything he expected and more. Fierce, stubborn, cautious, gentle and beautiful, gods was she beautiful. Pale like her brothers, with a long angular face and sharp slate blue eyes.

She was ice in human form.  

“Your Highness!” Arthur called as he rode to a stop, Lyanna’s horse strung to his. “Did you find the Knight?”

“Aye, I did,” he replied showing the shield. “But I let her go.”

“Her?” Arthur said, with no surprise in his voice. “So it was who I expected?” Rhaegar nodded. “Did she put up a fight?”

“Aye, she threatened me with a sword…And threw a rock at me.”

The Kingsgaurd laughed, “A rock? Ha! I told you she wouldn’t go down without a fight.”

Rhaegar laughed, “She definitely is something else.” He looked down at the beaten up shield and thought of the She Wolf again. Of her willingness to defend those she loved and her sharp tongue that called out injustices. How she could be gentle to some and cruel to those who deserved it. She was like a winter storm, ferocious yet beautiful.

“She’ll make a fine queen.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, this story as over a thousands hits! Thank you all so much! I really appreciate it. 
> 
> This is the second to last chapter of the tourney so the story will finally MOVE ON.   
> School will be starting soon, so I'm trying to write at LEAST half a chapter a day so I can keep ahead, that way when school does start there won't be a lag in updates. But we'll see, its a struggle so far.
> 
> If you have any concerns or suggestions or just want to let me know what you think of the story so far please leave me a comment or message!

“Lyanna!” Benjen cried in relief as she walked into Brandon’s tent. Brandon immediately stormed over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“You stupid girl!” He yelled as he shook her. “Benjen told us everything! Do you know how much trouble we can be in if the Mad King finds out!?”

“He’s not going to find out!” Lyanna said which only made Brandon shake her harder, making tears coming to her eyes. She had only seen Brandon this angry once, when his betrothal was announced. He looked every bit the Wild Wolf he was called and it freighted her.

“Brandon,” she sobbed.  “I’m sorry.”

“How can you be so foolish? My hand is itching to strike you.”

“Brandon, let go of her!” Eddard said as he pried the Wild Wolf’s hands off their sister. “Calm down before people begin to hear.” He hugged Lyanna tightly to him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? The King, the _Mad_ King is _looking_ for Lyanna. He has half the goddamn tourney looking for her. If he were to find out that she’s the mystery knight he’ll burn us all.”

“He’s looking for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, not Lyanna. But he will be looking for her if you don’t keep your fucking voice down,” Ned snapped.

It became quiet in the tent, the atmosphere tense. Eddard never swore, he was always so calm and was hard to anger.

“No one saw you, Lya right?” Ned asked as he pushed her gently away. “Only us and Howland know?”

Lyanna bit her lip in hesitation. “Prince Rhaegar knows, he found me in the Godswood,” she whispered.

“Fuck!” Brandon hissed as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “We’re so fucking dead.”

“The Prince pardoned me!” She said quickly, “He said he wasn’t going to turn me in to the King. I gave him my shield so he can present that to the King and tell him the knight escaped.”

“And you believe him!?” Brandon asked incredulously.

“Of course I do, he gave me his word!”

“Lyanna,” Brandon moaned in anguish, “his word means nothing. He’s a Targaryen; he’s probably just as insane as his father!”

“You’re wrong!” Lyanna said. “He promised me and I believe him. Not every Targaryen is like King Aerys!”

Brandon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was quiet and tense for a few more moments before Brandon spoke. “Get some rest; if we miss the birthday feast tomorrow afternoon for Lord Whent’s daughter then the King will be suspicious.” He stormed out of the tent, his cloak billowing behind him.  

“I’ll go after him,” Howland said, giving them a tight smile as he passed by them to follow Brandon out of the tent.

Lyanna let her built up tears fall as Ned kissed her forehead. “It’ll be alright. Let him calm down,” he said as he hugged her again and rubbed her back. “Everything will be alright.”

“I was only doing what was right,” Lyanna sobbed.

“It’s over now; if the Prince has pardoned you then it’s over, no use in dwelling over it. Are you hurt?”

Lyanna shook her head as she pulled away and wiped her eyes. “I just bruised my ribs.”

“I’m sorry Lya,” Benjen said remorsefully as he came over and hugged her “I should’ve never told Bran.”

“No, no it’s alright,” she said as she put her arm around his shoulders and hugged her to him, resting her head against his. “He needed to know. He’s just worried that’s all.”

“We should get some sleep,” Ned said as he peaked through the tent flap, watching as almost the entire encampment was retiring for the evening. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

 

 

“I still can’t believe the King struck you,” Arthur said as he dabbed some wine against the cut on Rhaegar’s cheek. “He _is_ a fucking mad man.”

The Dragon Prince sighed. Revealing to the King that the Knight of the Laughing Tree had ‘escaped’ had gone a lot better than Rhaegar expected.

After screaming and spitting about how useless everyone around him was, he grabbed the Prince roughly by the arm and struck him, scratching Rhaegar’s arm deeply with his talon like nails in the process. “It’s a small price to pay for Lady Lyanna’s safety. At least no one burned.”

“Yes, but you at least should’ve cleaned and bound the wound before we sparred this morning,” Arthur said. “I’m not a maester, but even I know that you have a higher chance of infection with dirt in your wound.”

“A little bit of dirt never hurt anyone,” Rhaegar said with dismissal, making Arthur squeeze his arm, pain shooting through it. “Ow!” 

“Your Royal Highness,” Ser Oswald Whent called from outside his tent, “Lady Lyanna Stark requests an audience with you.”

Rhaegar and Arthur looked at each other in question for a moment before calling to let her in.

The beautiful Stark walked in and bowed, “Your Highness, Ser Arthur.” Her dark blue dress stood out against the red of his tent. Her hair was half plaited and the white fur-trimmed neckline showed off her beautiful collarbones.

“Lady Lyanna,” the Prince greeted as he stood and motioning for her to stand. “What brings you here today?”

Her eyes slid to Arthur and then back to his. Getting the hint, Rhaegar nodded. “Arthur will you give us a moment?”

Arthur nodded and stood. “Your Highness, Lady Lyanna,” he said as he bowed briefly and walked out of the tent. 

It was silent as Rhaegar sat back down and looked over Lyanna. She was even more beautiful when not covered in sweat and dirt. Slate colored eyes and brown hair. Her long angular face showing her unease. A blush crept up her cheeks from his attention.

“What brings you here, Lady Lyanna?” He asked again as he leaned back against his chair.

“It’s Lyanna,” she said without a second thought, before realizing who she was talking to and correcting herself. “I mean, you may call me Lyanna, Your Highness.”

Rhaegar smiled, “Lyanna,” he said testing the name on his tongue. The blush on her face deepened and bled to her neck.

He smiled at the cute reaction. To put her more at ease he pointed to Arthur’s abandoned chair. “Please have a seat.”

She quickly sat down and clasped her hands in front of her. Clearing her throat, she said “I just wanted to thank you, Your Highness… For yesterday. It wasn’t only a great risk on my part, but yours as well. If the King ever found out that you lied for me, I-I fear for what he would do to you.”

“I’m touched at your concern; however there is nothing that he can do to me, nothing he _would_ do to me. Despite his sickness he knows I’m too important to him and the realm.” The Dragon Prince said. 

“It’s only right for me to be concerned,” Lyanna said with anxiety lacing her voice, “In truth, I’ve been up all night in worry. Every time a guard walked passed my tent I thought they were coming for me.

“And when you didn’t come to the birthday feast earlier I had thought that something had happened to you, I’m glad that—your face!” Lyanna gasped suddenly as she saw the bruise marring his cheek bone before looking down at the deep red scratches across his forearm. “And your arm!”  

“Oh,” Rhaegar said, lowering his sleeve and taking his arm out of sight. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing!” Lyanna said as she grabbed his arm and lifted his sleeve. Rhaegar tensed, he wasn’t comfortable with being touched. But he found that he didn’t mind having her small slightly rough hand on his arm as she clucked over his wound.  “I knew something was going to happen to you,” she said more to herself than him.

“The King does not take his men failing lightly,” He said, wincing was she turned his arm. “It’s small price to pay in exchange for your life.”  

“I am so sorry,” she said looking at him with such sincerity that it took his breath away. “This will be infected by days end if you don’t dress it properly. Will you let me clean and bind it for you? It’s the least I could do.”

Her sincerity still took his breath away so all he could do was nod. Rhaegar couldn’t remember the last time someone, other than his mother and Arthur, looked at him with such concern.

She smiled and his heart just about stopped. “Do you have any honey and linen?”

“Yeah on the uh, the table,” Rhaegar stumbled, watching her as she went and grabbed the honey, linens, and the basin of water.

She sat the items on the small table between them and brought her chair closer to him, the smell of winter roses filled his nose.

Lyanna wet one of the linens with some water and began tapping it over the scratch marks. It was quiet as she worked, Rhaegar watching her intensely. It wasn’t until she applied the wine did the silence break.

The wine made the wound sting and Rhaegar hissed in pain, making Lyanna apologize softly.

“You brandish a sword, win jousts, and now you’re a maester. Is there something you can’t do?” Rhaegar teased through clenched teeth.

Lyanna laughed and made a contemplative face. “I can’t fly.”

The Dragon Prince imagined her on a great dragon flying high in the sky and found that he liked that picture, “Maybe one day.”

The She Wolf shrugged. “Wolves don’t fly.”

“They can with the help of a Dragon,” he said without realizing it, only noticing he said anything when she paused and looked at him. Lyanna looked at him like she was trying to decipher something.  

The She Wolf looked at him for a few more seconds before returning to her task. “Maybe.”

They were silent again as she began to apply the honey. It was a tense silence, Rhaegar not knowing what to say to her. If he was going to break her betrothal to Robert and ask her to be his, then he needed to get to know her. Perhaps if they were friends then she would be more inclined to say yes.

“You have gentle hands like a maester; do you bandage other’s wounds often?”

“Growing up, my brother Brandon and I were the terrible twosome. We raced horses, we climbed the walls of the castle towers, we fought with swords, we did everything and anything that got us in trouble.” Lyanna paused as she smiled at the memory.  “It would anger our father every time Bran or I had to see Maester Luwin, especially me, he thought going around with bumps and bruises weren’t ‘lady like,’” she said with an eye roll. “So I learned to clean and bind our wounds to save us from a tongue lashing.”

“So you were always reckless?” Rhaegar asked enjoying the small tidbit of information.

“Always. We used to worry Old Nan and Ned all of the time. It wasn’t until Bran left for his fostering in Barrowton did we start to simmer down, but even then I had Benjen and he was just as naughty as Bran. Still is actually.”

“Just like his sister.”

Lyanna grinned, “Were you a reckless child, Your Highness?”

“Never,” Rhaegar said, smiling when Lyanna laughed. “I was too bookish and quiet. I would spend my days holed up in the library reading scroll after scroll. It wasn’t until I was older did I start practicing with a sword.”

“You sound like my brother Ned,” Lyanna said her eyes brightening as she spoke of her brother, “though he was easily taunted into sword play by Brandon, which he still vehemently denies.”

Rhaegar laughed again, “Your love for your family shows.”

 Lyanna’s smile dropped slightly. “I love them dearly; it saddens me that I’m being split from my pack.”

“Oh?” Rhaegar asked, feigning no knowledge on her betrothal.

The She Wolf gave a dejected sigh, “I was recently informed about my betrothal to Robert Baratheon. I will be leaving with him to the Stormlands after the end of the tourney.”

“You are not happy with this?”

Lyanna moved to the bruise on his check, blotting wine soaked linen on the minor scratch from the King’s ring. “A woman must do her duty to her family.”  

Rhaegar knew all about duty and how it feels to be reminded and forced to do it. “But are you happy?”

Lyanna didn’t answer which was all the answer Rhaegar needed.

“Can I ask you something?” He spoke quietly.

“Of course,” Lyanna replied, not looking away from her task.

“Is that why you cried at the welcoming feast, after my song, because you’re unhappy with your betrothal?”

Lyanna paused then giving out a small laugh. “You played the song beautifully, Your Highness,” she said, “I was just caught up in the emotion.”

“Lyanna, you were the only person crying in that room. Why do you lie?”

“Because a woman is better off lying to herself then she is telling herself the truth,” she slightly snapped. “The world is a cruel place for women. We’re nothing but cattle, to be bartered and kept. Most men see us as nothing more than property.”

Rhaegar sighed and grabbed her hand making her look at him in concern. “You’re truly not happy with your betrothal to Robert?”

The She Wolf looked at their hands, but he didn’t let go. “I should be happy. But I’m not. I do not find being unwillingly betrothed as something to be happy about. I do not desire to marry, lest of all to him. Robert is a very…he is the very definition of the men I just spoke of.

“He cares only for himself and sees me as nothing but his property. My brother says give him a chance, but my mind and heart know better. What good is a marriage if the wife is unhappy? The wife makes the home, runs the home, carries the babes and takes care of them and all men do is shit and eat. Occasionally they’ll fight a war or two and then stick their prick in anything with legs to seal the victory.”

Rhaegar laughed which made Lyanna freeze. “I’m sorry,” she said with an embarrassed laugh, “it seems my mouth has gotten away from me.”

Rhaegar squeezed her hand, “Don’t be, it is your mouth that has me fascinated.”

Lyanna smiled slightly, but before Rhaegar could say anything Jon Connington came into the tent unannounced.

“Your Highness, the King requests your presences.”

One thing that always annoyed Rhaegar about Jon Connington was his almost blatant disregard for rules regarding certain things. It was as if he thought that being a friend and Hand of the King granted him certain liberties, like not announcing his presence before entering the Prince’s tent. It was a minor irritation, but an irritation no less.

Arthur came in after him, a look of indignation on his face as he looked at Jon. Rhaegar waved him off. He was about to ask Jon why the King requested to see him when Lyanna spoke.

“A person should always announce their presence before entering a royal’s private room, ser,” Lyanna said in a snappish tone.

“I’m the Hand of the King; I do not need permission,” Jon Connington said, barely giving her a look of acknowledgement which only seemed to anger the She Wolf more.

“And why does being the Hand of the King exclude you from such rules?”

“I do the King’s bidding.”

Lyanna scoffed. “His Royal Highness Prince Rhaegar does the King’s bidding, not you.”

“She has a point,” Arthur said.

Before Jon could respond Rhaegar intervened. “Enough. Though she’s right, Jon. While you are a close friend and newly Hand of the King, I expect you to follow the rules set in place. What if I had been indisposed?”

Jon clenched his jaw before giving a bow, “My apologies, Your Highness.”

Rhaegar nodded ending the topic. “Now what is it that my father would like to see me for?”

“He would like an update on the…trackings, Your Highness,” Jon said, “he demands you meet him in his chambers with the report.”

The Dragon Prince stood, Lyanna following him.

“Lady Stark-Lyanna, thank you for your kind visit. My arm is already feeling much better. I hope we speak again soon,” he said as he bowed and kissed her knuckles.

Lyanna watched him intensely before bowing herself, “Thank you for the audience, Your Highness.”

“Ser Arthur, will you escort Lyanna back to her brothers, please?”

Arthur nodded, “Of course, Your Highness,” he held out his arm to her. “My Lady?”

Lyanna bowed to Rhaegar one more time before looping her arm through Arthur’s. “Thank you, Ser Arthur. I’m sure your sister will be pleased to see you.”

“Is that where she has been? It seems if she not with Princess Elia, she is with your brother.”

Rhaeger heard Lyanna laugh and agree as they exited the tent, their conversation becoming just another part of the crowd outside.

“Such a bitch that one,” Jon said. “I wonder if her cunt is as ice cold as she is.”

“Watch your tongue when speaking about her” Rhaegar snapped as he put on his black leather doublet.  

“Rhaegar you’re always so noble. She’s just a woman, who cares how they’re spoken of.”

He was reminded of Lyanna’s earlier proclamation and turned to Jon. “Why do you seem to hate women? In fact, why do most men speak of women in such a degrading manner?”

“Because women are nothing more than bed warmers and babe carriers,” Jon said disgust evident in his voice.    

Rhaegar rolled his eyes as he and Jon left his tent, Ser Barristan, Ser Oswell, and Ser Lewyn trailing slowly after them.

“Men should show more respect to women. A woman leaves her father’s house to live with her husband, runs his house and turns it into a home, takes his seed and carries, births, and takes care of his babe and yet, men still speak lowly of them.

“So what if they don’t wield a sword or fight in battles, does that make them any less then us? Could you even imagine if women did wield a sword? No one would stand a chance against them.”

“They say there is no harsher pain in the world than child birth,” Ser Barristan said, “not even being on the receiving end of a sword compares to the insurmountable pain of child birth.”

“Aye, agreed,” Ser Lewyn said. “I stood outside of the door when the Queen was giving birth to Prince Viserys. And the sounds coming out of there were one’s I will never forget. It was as if she was being lit on fire while being dragged by a horse.”

“See! That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” Rhaegar proclaimed. “Women go through just as much if not more than men. Why are we so cruel to them? They should be worshipped.” 

“You make them sound like gods,” Jon snorted.

“Maybe they are. I mean, they give us life just like the gods, maybe they’re a god in human form.”

Jon laughed as they stopped in front of the King’s chambers in Lord Whent’s castle. “You spend too much time reading. I think it might finally be going to your head.”

 Rhaegar didn’t acknowledge his comment instead he replied “You should have some more respect for women, you might get one to actually want to talk to you.”

The three Kingsguard behind them laughed, making Jon blush and his face squint in anger. Rhaegar didn’t apologize for his rude statement; instead he went into the King’s chambers.

  

 

The stands were loud as Rhaegar readied himself for his next joust, his attendants tying the last pieces of his armor together. It was the last day of the jousting and as one of the guests of honor he was obligated to participate. He had already defeated Yohn Royce a day prior and was eager for the next joust, just wanting the tourney to be over.

He felt a presence next to him and turned to see his next opponent, Brandon Stark.

The eldest Stark bowed to him in greeting before waving away his armor attendant. He looked just like his sister, a long angular face with slate blue eyes that portrayed the steel underneath, brown hair that he kept in a half bun to keep out of his face. He was tall and thin like his brothers and when he smiled it made the corner of his eyes wrinkle.  

“How are you today, Lord Brandon? Are you ready to be defeated? Although I hear you are a very good jouster.”

Brandon laughed, “Not as good as you, Your Highness. The maneuver you pulled to knock Lord Royce off his horse was amazing.”

“Thank you.”

They were quiet for a few moments, watching the audience in the stand.  

“Your Highness, my I speak freely?” Brandon asked as he put on his riding gloves.

“You may.”

“I just want to thank you, Your Highness, for protecting my sister; she explained to us what happened. I also must apologize, Lyanna is stubborn which sometimes makes her foolish and I’m afraid the news of her betrothal to Lord Baratheon has made her act as such.”

Rhaegar could hear the underlying anger and anxiety in Brandon’s voice. How fearful the Stark boys must be, to know that if anyone found out their sisters secret then they all would burn for it.

“I do not see Lyanna’s actions as foolish,” Rhaeger said as he looked at the Wild Wolf, hoping to calm him. “She was doing what she thought was right. Your sister showed a great deal of courage, not only did she win three jousts; she also was willing to fight me so she her identity wouldn’t be revealed to the King which would put her and her family in danger. You should be honored to have her as a sister.”

Brandon opened his mouth to say something but Rhaegar put a hand on his shoulder, effectively stopping him. “Fear not your secret is safe with me, Brandon. I promised your sister and its one I intend to keep.”

The Wild Wolf nodded. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

They both mounted their horses as the trumpets sounded in the ring, announcing the beginning of the joust.

“Good Luck, Stark,” Rhaegar said riding out to the ring as Lord Whent announced his name. As he rode to his side of the ring, the crowd cheered and hollered, all expect one, Lyanna.

She watched with a detached indifference, only offering him a small smile. She was sitting next to her brother Ned clearly using him as a barrier between her and Robert, who was sitting on Ned’s other side, her brother Benjen and the Crannogman sitting behind her.

He nodded to her in greeting before nodding to the other women in the stands.

Lord Whent announced Brandon’s name, which got just as much if not more cheering from the crowd, and then threw the flag.

Brandon was a tough opponent; he was resilient and had excellent balance on his horse. He also knew some tricks of his own, resulting in Rhaegar almost being thrown twice.

It finally ended after Rhaegar slammed his lance into Brandon’s helm, surprising the Wild Wolf making him fall off his horse with a hard bang.

The crowd erupted into applause as Rhaegar turned his horse to help Brandon up, expect the eldest Stark hadn’t moved. 

“Bran!” He heard Lyanna call with worry as she went to the beam of the stand, leaning over it to look closer at her brother.

The Dragon Prince quickly dismounted his horse and ran towards Brandon.

“Brandon!” He said as he shook him, worry filling his heart. Lyanna would never forgive him if he killed her brother. He would never forgive himself. He made a vow that he would never kill someone unless absolutely necessary.  “Bran wake up. Please wake up!”

It was another few moments before the Wild Wolf groaned, signaling that he was alright.  

The audience, himself included, took a sigh of relief as Rhaegar helped Brandon stand. The crowd erupted into applause again as Brandon bowed and shook Rhaegar’s hand.

“Good joust, Your Highness,” Brandon said a bit breathlessly.

The rest of the joust went off without another scare. Arthur, as always, proved to be a tough opponent. They trained together too much, so they knew each other’s moves. It took seven passes until Rhaegar’s lance caught in Arthur’s pauldron knocking the knight off his horse.

Barristan was a little less difficult, but still a good opponent. The knight’s problem was that he was too distracted by Ashara, who would periodically get up from her seat next to Princess Elia and go over to Eddard Stark to whisper something in his ear, making the Quiet Wolf laugh or blush.

However, it didn’t take much for the Dragon Prince to knock the White Cloak off his horse.

The crowd’s cheers were once again deafening as Lord Whent proclaimed Rhaegar as the winner of the Tourney.

He took off his helm and rode over to the podium, where Lord Whent was standing holding a crown of flowers that were ice blue making them look like they had frost around the edges.

“His Royal Highness Prince Rhaegar of Dragonstone has won the tourney!” He called, his voice booming. “He will now proclaim his Queen of Love and Beauty!”

The cheering from the audience was deafening. Rhaegar looked over the stands, ignoring all of the maidens making eyes at him, especially Cersei Lannister. He knew there was talk, which everyone knew he needed to find a bride. With talk came rumors, and the rumor was the he was to name Cersei Lannister his bride.

Rhaegar almost snorted when he heard that.

The crown was not going to Cersei Lannister. It was going to someone who more than deserved it. Someone sweet and unassuming, courageous and gentle. Whose ice like beauty was unmatched. Making his way towards the Starks, he saw Robert’s face drop as the crowd became quieter and quieter with each step. The Stag’s face dropped to a full frown and there was nary a peep from the audience when he stopped in front of the She Wolf. He smiled at her.

Lyanna was watching him with equal parts horror and flattery as he placed the beautiful crown of Winter Roses on her lap.

“Lady Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, I proclaim you the Queen of Love and Beauty.”

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of the tourney! If there are mistakes or something doesn't make sense, apologies, this is unbeta'd.   
> Thank you to everyone who has bookmarked/commented/kudo it, it means a lot.
> 
> If you have any comments or suggestions let me know!!

Dinner that night was louder than normal. Rhaegar watched from his table on the high platform as Lyanna danced with Catelyn Tully, her crown of Winter Roses still sitting snuggly on her head. His father spoke lowly to Ser Gerold beside him, his eyes skittish as he tried to watch everyone at once.  

The two women were laughing, their hands clasped together as they danced closely. It wasn’t until the Quiet Wolf approached them did they pull apart. Catelyn nodded to Ned, before kissing Lyanna’s cheek and returning to her table.

Eddard had concern on his face as he asked his sister something to which she shook her head.

Robert Baratheon swaggered over to them and put his arm around both of their shoulders. The look on Lyanna’s face almost made Rhaegar smile.

The Storm Lord said something and laughed loudly, Ned laughed slightly at his friend while the She Wolf just crossed her arms with an impudent look.    

Eddard left them to attend to Benjen, who had been arguing with Hoster Tully’s ward Petyr Baelish and was currently holding him by the lapels of his cloak.

Rhaegar wondered where the eldest Stark was, for he was the one who normally kept an eye on the Wolf Pup. He hadn’t shown for dinner nor was he present for the after affair of dancing. 

Turning his attention back to Lyanna, he watched as Robert said something to her, making her turn her head in defiance. He grabbed her chin to make her look at him before saying something again. It was meant to be a tender gesture but it was clear Lyanna did not see it as such.

Yanking her face away from him, the She Wolf said something to the Stag before storming away.

Robert looked like he was about to command her to come back, but a beautiful servant girl passed him with a decanter of wine turning his attention away from Lyanna.

“Your Grace, if you’ll excuse me?” Rhaegar asked and the King waved him away without a glance.

Walking towards the doorway Lyanna walked out of, he found the female Stark on the terrace that overlooked the encampment.

The She Wolf was leaning on the stone railing facing the camp, the moonlight highlight the flower crown she wore.

Rhaegar cleared his throat, startling her. “Lyanna,” he greeted when she spun around.

“Your Highness,” she said breathless from fear as she bowed quickly. “You gave me a fright.”

Rhaegar laughed as he stood next to her. “My apologies, that was not my intention.”

Lyanna smiled at him before turning back to the view, grabbing onto the balcony edge and pulling back, stretching her arms. They were quiet as they listened to the feast going on inside.

“Thank you for the honor today,” Lyanna said after a few more moments of silence. “Although, I never thought I’d be crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty. There are plenty of women who are much more beautiful than I am.”

“Not to me,” Rhaegar said. She Wolf grinned wide and turned her head away from him trying to hide the blush staining her cheeks.

“You are too kind, Your Highness,” she said.

“Rhaegar,” he said quickly making her look at him in question. “You can call me Rhaegar.”

“Rhaegar,” Lyanna said softly testing his name and the Prince smiled, enjoying the way his name rolled from her lips.

“And I only speak the truth, Lyanna, you are the most beautiful.”

Lyanna turned to him, brows raised and eyes narrowed in mock scrutiny. “I’m on to you ser, with all this flattery you must want something.”

Rhaegar laughed, “I want nothing from you my Lady. I just wanted to show you that you are beautiful.”

Lyanna smiled again, wide and beautiful. “I love winter roses.”

Rhaegar acted as if he didn’t know. “Really?”

“They remind me of my mother,” she said faintly. “She’d try and grow them around the castle but the weather was too hard for them and they’d eventually die. So my father built her a glass garden house. I remember going in there with her when I was young and watching as she tended to the roses. She always smelled like them.”  

No one that visited from the North ever mentioned the late Lady. The Prince knew that Lady Lyarra Stark had died right after his twelfth birthday. He remembered his mother telling him softly as she consoled one of her former ladies-in-waiting that was crying for her sister that had died of summer fever.

Lyanna’s smile slightly dropped. “When she died, I had the hardest time even looking at winter roses. It wasn’t until Ned told me that they’d die if no one tended to them that I started to take care of them.”

He couldn’t imagine losing his mother. She was his best friend and they were each other’s solace. If something were to ever happen to his mother, Rhaegar wouldn’t know what to do. “Who will take care of them now?”

The She Wolf grinned “Old Nan is taking care of them now, much to her dismay. But Catelyn said she’d tend to them once she moves to Winterfell, so I know they’re in good hands.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence again. Lyanna continued to look over the camp, humming a song to herself. Rhaegar looked at her and his heart started to pound. Now was a good time to ask her. They were alone. But doubt lingered in his mind. Why would she want to marry him, they hardly knew each other? Thirty minutes was not enough time to get to know someone. But then again, she really didn’t know Robert either and she was to marry him. He needed to explain the prophecy to her.

“Will you be joining the hunt tomorrow?” She asked breaking Rhaegar’s train of thought.

The hunt was the last event before the final feast, all the men attended. 

“No,” Rhaegar said as he looked at her, her eyes were wide in interest and so blue even in the moonlight, it made it more difficult for him to speak, “hunting is not my preferred pass time.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised; you did mention that you prefer to read than fight.”

“I just find hunting senseless, to hunt an animal when it’s done nothing wrong to you. Hunting should only be done when food is needed, not for sport.”

Lyanna laughed, “You sound like my brother Ned. He doesn’t prefer to partake in hunts either. He said almost the exact same thing you did. You both are such gentle hearts.”

Rhaegar smiled at her, his heart still pounding. He needed to tell her, it was now or never. “Lyanna,” he started, but as she looked at him with a fond smile, he found that he couldn’t say anything.

As stubborn and strong as she was, there was still a beautiful innocence to her that the other women in court didn’t have. Why would he want to ruin something so beautiful by bringing her into the King’s court?

Because he needed her, the world needed her.

But when he opened his mouth nothing came out. He couldn’t ask her. She shouldn’t have to be put through hell just because of a silly notion such as a prophecy.

Rhaegar was sure that once he ascended the throne, he’d find the ice to his fire. But it was clear that Lyanna Stark was not his ice.

A large shadow covered the light coming from the doors and Robert’s sharp voice called her.

“Lyanna,” they both turned to look at him as Lyanna tensed. “Come inside dearest, your brother Brandon is looking for you.”

“Brandon has finally joined the feast? Did he say where he has been?” Lyanna asked, still not moving towards him.

“He has not, but when you go to him you can ask,” Robert said, his eyes moving from her to Rhaegar. The Prince could tell by the Lord’s body language that he was struggling not to pull Lyanna away from him.  

“Right,” Lyanna said flatly and turned to bow her tone becoming softer. “Have a good evening, Your-Rhaegar.”

 Rhaegar smiled, trying hard not to just pull her back and explain the situation to her. “Same to you, Lyanna,” he said, bowing his head in return.

Lyanna walked by Robert, who gave her a quick smile which she did not return, before she disappeared inside.

Robert still stood there, looking at Rhaeger with narrowed eyes.

“Is there something I can help you with Lord Robert?” He asked in a friendly tone. Robert stomped towards him, though they were roughly about the same size, it didn’t deter the Stag from trying to use his size as an intimidation tactic.

“I don’t know what you were trying to pull at the tourney today, but I hear the rumors, Your Highness and let me remind you, she is _mine_. Rickard promised her to me and I refuse to allow you to just swoop in and take her. She will be leaving with me to the Stormlands where she will be _my_ Lady.”

“Lord Robert, you know I wouldn’t do anything to compromise our alliance with House Baratheon, besides despite the distance in our bloodlines we are still family.” He lied through his teeth. The Prince didn’t give a single fuck if he broke his alliance to House Baratheon. He had plenty more House’s that will hopefully join him in overthrowing his father.

Robert narrowed his eyes once more at him; “Horse shit,” he snapped.  “I refuse to allow you to take what is rightfully mine. Stay away from Lyanna,” he demanded, a threat in his voice.

Rhaegar almost felt like laughing. “And what were you to do if I refused?” He asked as he crossed his arms in disbelief. “Tell my father? He’ll laugh at you right in your face and probably burn you with wildfire for wasting his time.

“Lyanna may be your betrothed, which if you weren’t aware she absolutely loathes, but if I want to marry her then I will. There is nothing stopping me, do you understand? I am your Prince, and I will get what I want if I want it.”  Rhaegar hated using his title as means to show off. But there was something about Robert and all of his arrogance that made the Prince just wanted to shove it in his face. Wanted to show Robert that he had the power to do what he wanted.

Robert didn’t back down. Instead, he puffed out his chest a little bit more.  “You Targaryen’s are all the same, insane and only thinking of themselves. Doing and taking things regardless of the repercussions, lunatics the lot of you.”

Rhaegar felt something tick. He only felt this way when he was under too much stress or when something angered him to the point of madness. It was like all of his rational thinking shut off as he blanked out. It was like watching himself from the outside.

He grabbed Robert by his doublet and pulled him close.  “Now you are crossing the line, Lord Baratheon,” he hissed. “We may be distant cousins but I am still your Prince and I refuse to allow you to speak to me in such a manner. How dare you besmirch your king and his family, I should burn you where you stand!”  

“Your Highness,” Arthur called as he and Ser Gwayne Gaunt walked forward, eyeing the Stag lord’s and Rhaegar’s hostile body language. “Is everything alright?”

Rhaegar took a deep breath trying to regain his conscious. He slowly felt his rationale return as he backed away from Robert. “Everything is fine. Lord Robert was just going back inside.”

Robert stared at him, his face set in a hard look. “Your Highness,” he spat. But before he could turn away Rhaegar grabbed his arm.

“I only pardon people once, Lord Robert; your next bout of insolence will result in you being burned and your brother Stannis named Lord of the Stormlands, do you understand?” Rhaegar asked with a dark tone.

Robert nodded once, “Your Highness.”

The Prince let go of his arm and watched as Robert stormed back into the hall.

“Rhaegar?” Gwayne asked gently as the Prince watched Robert, his disdain emanating from him.

Rhaegar blinked and turned to the Kingsguard. “I’m fine.”

“It happened again didn’t it?” Arthur asked. “You disconnected from yourself.”

Rhaegar ignored him as he straightened out his vest. “Let’s go inside, I need to speak to the King.”

“Rhaegar, did it happen again?” Arthur asked, annunciating every word.

The Prince looked at him with disquieted eyes. Arthur and Gwayne shared a look. That was exactly what happened when the Mad King started to descend.  He would often blank out before going on a tirade only to stop and seemingly ‘wake up’ claiming he had no memory of what had just happened.

“Let’s not worry about it for now,” Gwayne said. “What of your betrothal? Were you able to ask Lady Stark?”

Rhaegar shook his head. “Even if I had, she would’ve never said yes. Despite Robert Baratheon’s misdoings, it’s nothing compared to my family. My family is a den of lunatics. _I’m_ a lunatic. Only other lunatics would want marry into it.”

“You Highness, not every Targaryen goes mad. You _are not_ a lunatic; we should go get her so you can—

“I have made my decision!” Rhaegar barked ceasing Gwayne’s sentence. “The King will announce my betrothal to the maiden of his choosing.”

“What?” Arthur asked. “But Lyanna could be—

“Lady Stark is already promised to another. It is not right for a Prince to break a betrothal. There could be many repercussions from it. Now I must speak to my father.”

“Your Highness,” Arthur and Gwayne said as the bowed, following Rhaegar into the feast.  

 

 

The King had retired to his chamber in Lord Whent’s castle and when Rhaegar walked in he was marching around, muttering to himself.

“Your Grace,” he announced softly trying not to startle him.

“Boy,” Aerys said snapping his fingers to beckon him closer. “Look at this report that I received from the Lord of North.”

Rhaegar stepped over to the table and read the report. It was nothing out of the ordinary. It talked about trading, livestock, finances, and general information. Nothing looked different from the report they received a month ago. “What about it, Your Grace?”

“Their army, it grew in numbers,” Aerys said his eyes going hard.

The Prince flipped the page, sure enough the armies of the North had increased. “It’s only from the Stormlands, my King. Lady Lyanna Stark is betrothed to Lord Robert Baratheon; naturally the Stormlands will join armies with the North.” He didn’t dare mention Lord Rickard’s fear of the King heading North.

“They’re planning something, I _know_ it,” The King muttered, his fingers twitching. “No one needs an army that large unless they plan on waging a war.”

“It’s just numbers, something for them to flaunt to the other kingdoms, nothing more. The North is fully loyal to you.”

King Aerys lips curled, his eyes misting over as his madness came out. “I do not trust them,” he grumbled, “the Starks are traitorous wolves. I should burn the whole lot; show the rest of the North what happens to traitors.”

Rhaegar felt panicked for a moment. If the King picked someone to burn, then it that person was going to burn whether he was innocent or not, it didn’t matter to the King.

“Your Grace,” Ser Gerold said, placing a hand on the Aerys shoulder, calming him down some.  “The Starks are the most loyal house in the North. To burn them for a crime they did not commit would not look well on you.  Besides, there are other ways that you can bind the Starks to you. Have one of Lord Rickard Stark’s younger sons join the Kingsguard.”

“No,” the King said before looking at Rhaegar, the madness in his eyes going wild. “That wolf bitch that you crowned today, she’s the only daughter of Rickard.” Dread filled Rhaegar as Aerys continued to speak. “If she were to come to court, then the North wouldn’t think twice about waging a war on me.”

“You Grace—

“I’ve made up my mind! Boy, you are to bring the Stark bitch to court and marry her.”

Rhaegar shook his head in protest, panic making his heart race. He had to think of a way to get Lyanna out of this. “Your Grace, Lady Lyanna is already promised to Lord Robert.”

“Tomorrow you will announce the wolf whore as your betrothed,” Aerys said, acting as if Rhaegar hadn’t spoken.

“Lord Robert—

“WILL GO BACK TO THE STORMLANDS WITHOUT PROTEST OR HE WILL BE THE NEXT TO BURN!” The King screamed. “Ser Gwayne!”

The White Cloak came in immediately and bowed. “Your Grace.”

“Tell Lord Whent that the hunt tomorrow is canceled and to have all the highborn houses meet in the hall. There will be an important announcement.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Ser Gwayne said with a bow and left the room.

“Your Grace, what if Lady Lyanna refuses?”

“She cannot refuse the command of her King and if she does then we will kill her brothers and every other member of Winterfell until she bows in the Sept and takes the name of Targaryen!”

Rhaegar tried to protest, “Your Grace that’s not—

“MY WORD IS LAW!” Aerys hollered, his voice going hoarse, silencing any other argument. “She will either marry you or the Starks will burn!”

Rhaegar looked to Arthur, who had the same look of distress on his face and for the first time he felt helpless, either Lyanna married him or she’d burn, and there was nothing he could do about it. So he gave a brief nod, “My King,” he said before dismissing himself.  He had to tell the Starks and quickly.

 

 

Rhaegar and Arthur walked quietly through the encampment, most if not all of its tenants sleeping.

There were only a few tents with glowing light, making it easy to spot the direwolf sigil on the side of the tent.

Without introducing themselves, Rhaegar and Arthur strode into the tent, startling the two of the three Stark boys. Eddard and Benjen were huddled around a small table playing cards.

They quickly stood and bowed. “Your Highness,” they said in unison.

“Gentlemen,” Rhaegar said vaguely noticing the eldest Stark’s absences again. “I’m sorry to burst in like this but I have urgent news that cannot wait until morning.”

“What’s wrong, has something happened in the North?” Eddard asked as he came forward, concern on his face.

The Prince shook his head. “No, Winterfell is fine. Where is Lyanna?”

“She has retired for the night, Your Highness what’s wrong?” Benjen asked.

Rhaegar opened and closed his mouth trying to form the words as he looked at the Stark men. “I don’t know any other way to put this, King Aerys commands that I am to marry your sister Lyanna.”

It was silent in the tent as the two Stark boys registered the news. It was the Wolf Pup that broke the silence. “What?”

“The King is worried about your army growing in numbers; he thinks that the North is trying to plan an overthrow. He thinks that if he was to bind my and Lyanna’s hand that your father wouldn’t attack.”

“That’s preposterous, our father has no such plans as an overthrow, he’s the most loyal house in the North!” Eddard said.

“I understand,” Rhaegar said keeping his voice calm, “and I’ve tried to convince the King as such, but he will not listen. He is paranoid and losing his conscious self more and more every day. Everything and everyone is becoming a threat to him and unfortunately the North is now a threat as well.”

 The two Starks looked at each other, all unsure of what to do or say. The Prince pitied them. At least with Robert, Lyanna was safe and with a friend. Now their beloved sister will be whisked off to the capitol where anything can happen and with no one but Rhaegar.

Eddard heaved a long sigh, “We have to tell Lyanna.”

“No! If we tell her she’ll run,” Benjen said, “like she almost did when father told her about Robert.”

Rhaegar had to pause from what he was going to say and asked, “Lyanna almost ran away?”

Benjen nodded, “She was half way to the Riverlands when she was stopped by one of Lord Hoster’s bannerman who convinced her to come back.”

“One thing about our sister is that she is fiercely independent and stubborn,” the Quiet Wolf said. “If she doesn’t want to do something, she will try to find a way to not do it.” 

“If you just spring it on her it’ll make things worse,” Benjen said. “She will run away.”

“Even if she doesn’t want to do it it’s the King’s command. She’ll be a fugitive if she runs,” Arthur said.

“And the King will kill you and everyone in Winterfell until she agrees,” Rhaegar finished.

The look of horror on their faces almost made Rhaegar go to his knees and beg their forgiveness. It was his fault. If he had only left her alone and not have brought her to the King’s attention, if he had only thought his plan through before rushing into action, none of them would be in this mess. “I am sorry, I’ve tried to talk some sense into the King but he would not have it.”

“What’s done is done,” Eddard said as he too sighed in exasperation. “If the King commands it then it must be done.  It’s best if you tell Lyanna tomorrow at court.”

Benjen made a noise, “But Lyanna will be—

“Lyanna has no choice, Ben,” Eddard said with finality. “Either she marries the Prince or we all die. She’s not that selfish to make her family perish because she doesn’t want to marry Prince Rhaegar.”

Rhagar often wondered if it was Eddard who was the eldest. For he sometimes seemed wiser than his older brother, more rational.   

“When will you be returning to King’s Landing?” Eddard asked.

“I plan on leaving tomorrow night before the King; I know Lyanna would not appreciate having to travel in close quarters with him.”

 “How are we going to tell father?” Benjen asked. “And Lord Robert?”

“Write at once to your father and send it with your fastest raven,” Rhaegar said trying not to grimace. “I will deal with Lord Robert.”

“What until Brandon finds out,” Benjen said and the Prince felt an odd sense of foreboding.

 

 

Sadness raced through Lyanna as she packed her trunk it was the final day of the tourney, tomorrow she’d be leaving for the Stormlands to become Robert Baratheon’s wife.

The She Wolf tried not to cry for the third time that morning as she threw more clothes in the trunk, not carrying if they weren’t folded properly. She reached for another article of clothing when her hand brushed the beautiful flower crown that had been lying on her cot. 

She picked it up and examined it, smiling at the memory of the Prin—Rhaegar laying it on her lap. That would forever be the best moment of her life. The crowd silent as the beautiful Prince, with the sun shining behind him giving him a golden halo, stopped in front of her. The smile on his face making her heart beat erratically and stop all at once as he laid the crown of winter roses on her lap, naming her the Queen of Love and Beauty.    

Lyanna frowned, the tourney was over now and like it, the memory of that day would only be that, a memory. Placing the crown on the cot again, she was about to resume her sullen packing when she heard her name being called from outside her tent.

“Lady Lyanna.”

She paused for a moment, wondering who it could be. Everyone had been called to court for an important announcement, but she had chosen to stay behind and pack. Robert had already told her that he wanted to leave before dawn’s light and that if she wasn’t ready, anything not packed would be left behind.

Her name was called again this time by a different voice, one that she recognized as belonging to Arthur Dayne.

Stepping out of the tent Lyanna smiled at the two White Cloaks. “Ser Arthur,” she greeted before turning to the second Knightsguard.

“Ser Jonothor Darry, my Lady,” the Kingguard said as he gave her a small bow.

“Ser Arthur, Ser Jonothor, what do I owe this pleasure?”

“We are here to escort you to the hall, my Lady,” Arthur said his face going remorseful.

Lyanna panicked as she saw the look on Arthur’s face. Had the Prince lied and told his father who the Knight of the Laughing Tree was? Were they escorting her to be burned? “I’m afraid I am unable to attend, my betrothed Lord Robert wishes to leave before dawn tomorrow and I still have much to pack.”

“I’m afraid that’s going to have to wait, the King demands your presence,” Ser Jonothor said and Lyanna almost fainted. She was going to be burned. The King knew her identity and was summoning her to burn her.

“Is there any reason why I’m commanded to be there?” She said as slowly walked back towards the tent opening. If she could get inside and grab her sword, then she could at least try to defend herself. She’d lose, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“We are not at liberty to say,” Arthur said as he noticed her movements. “My Lady please, don’t make this difficult. We are instructed to bring you to the hall by any means necessary and we will use any means. Now please, come with us.” 

Lyanna bit her lip as she tried to calm her heart. “Okay,” her voice coming out no louder than a whisper.

The walk to the grand hall was the longest walk of her life. Lyanna thought of all the good things that had happened in her life, trying to hold back tears. She was going to die. Praying to the gods that they would show mercy on her in the afterlife, the trio stopped in front of the large oak doors of the grand hall.

Ser Jonothor pushed the door open as the chamberlain announced her, “My Lady,” he said, holding his hand out as an invitation for her to move into the room. But Lyanna felt like she was bolted to the floor as she stared inside.

Everyone was looking at her, including the King who sat on a wide chair on the highest platform at the head of the room. Prince Rhaegar standing behind him, his face blank as a slate.

“Lyanna,” Arthur whispered to her and gently nudged her forward.

Taking a deep breath, Lyanna held her head high as she walked in, ignoring the stares and the whispers as she walked forward, trying to find her brothers with her peripheral vision.

She saw them standing at the front of the crowd, their faces were bleak. Next to them was Robert. His face also blank, but the rage in his eyes was clear as day. The She Wolf stopped right before the platform and bowed low, her knee resting on the ground as she dipped her head. “My King,” she said, her voice wavering.

“Lady Lyanna Stark, do you know why you were called here today?” the red haired Hand of the King asked his voice stern.

Lyanna swallowed before looking up at the Hand of the King. He was standing on the other side of the King, next to a stout bald man in lavender silks. “I do not, ser.”

“It seems Lady Stark that the King wishes to combine House Stark and House Targaryen by binding you to his eldest son Prince Rhaegar Targaryen of Dragonstone.”

Lyanna blanked out for a moment, staring at the Hand of the King in confusion. Did he just say what she thought he just said? “What?”

“King Aerys recognizes that a marriage between House Targaryen and House Stark would be both beneficial and fundamental to the safety of the Seven Kingdoms as the North is one of the largest and more powerful of the realms.”

Lyanna was lost for words, her mind not completely grasping the situation. She turned to her brothers for clarification but there was none. Only their bleak faces, their eyebrows knitted in apprehension. “I-I am deeply honored for the consideration, Your Excellence,” she said, her mouth having difficultly forming the letters, “bu-but I am already promised to another.”

“Not anymore,” King Aerys said slowly, his narrowed eyes piercing her.

“You will return with the Prince to King’s Landing where you will marry in the Sept,” Jon Connington said waving his hand, beckoning Ser Barriston and Ser Arthur over. “Take her to the King’s antechamber.”

The two Kingsguard came over to her and helped her up, her heart pounding in her ears as she turned to her brothers with tears in her eyes. This couldn’t be happening.

‘It’ll be alright,’ Ned said mouthed to her.

Arthur and Barriston escorted her out of the hall, her heart pounding and her mind racing as the tears fell. Lyanna had a feeling that nothing was going to be alright.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who reads/comments/kudos/bookmarks, its an awesome feeling when you know that people generally like your story. 
> 
> School is starting this upcoming week so updates might be a little slower, but I promise, I'm not going to abandon this story! 
> 
> And if you have any comments or suggestions please feel free to leave them!

Lyanna couldn’t stop shaking, her mind blank yet running with a million thoughts. She vaguely heard the antechamber door slam open and the familiar steps of her brothers as they strode into the room.

“Lyanna,” Eddard said as he came towards her, pulling her into a hug. “Lyanna, are you alright?”

The She Wolf looked to her brother with wide pleading eyes, “Ned,” she whispered, “Ned, please don’t let them take me to King’s Landing! Please don’t let them take me!”

“We have no choice,” Ned said as he squeezed her tight. “It is the King’s command.”

Lyanna stared to shake again, tears falling down her face “Please,” she begged squeezing her eyes shut and hugging Ned tighter. “Please don’t let them take me. I don’t want to go to the Mad King’s court. Let the pick somebody else, please I don’t want to go.”

The antechamber door opened again and Rhaegar walked in, his face filled with remorse instead of the blank façade he had in the hall.

“Lyanna I’m—

Brandon stormed over to him and grabbed the Prince by the neck and slamming him against the wall. “You son of a bitch! I knew we shouldn’t have trusted you.”

Ser Arthur and Ser Jonothor unsheathed their swords but Rhaegar waved them down. “Lord Brandon, please listen—“ the Wild Wolf had none of it as his grip tightened.

“Is this payback for keeping Lyanna’s secret? Making her become your wife? Huh?” He ended his sentence with another slam against the wall.

“Brandon! Let go of him!” Eddard said as he passed Lyanna to Benjen and went to Brandon. “Bran! Let go, you’re committing treason. If you kill him we will all burn, now stop it!”

“Brandon if you do not release him we will be forced to remove you by all means necessary,” Ser Arthur said, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword Dawn tightly. “Let.Him.Go.”

“Lord Brandon please,” Rhaegar gasped again as he tried to pry the Wild Wolf’s hands off him, “this was not my idea.”

Brandon slammed him against the wall again making Arthur and Jonothor start towards him, only to be waved off by Rhaegar again. “Bullshit it isn’t! I’ve been watching you; I see the way you look at her. I WILL NOT HAVE MY SISTER’S LIFE BE PUT IN JEOPARDY BECAUSE OF YOU!”

“BRANDON!” Eddard hollered, putting his brother in a chokehold. “You’re going to kill him! Let him go!” 

Eddard’s chokehold cut off Brandon’s breath, making him loosen his hold on the Prince, enabling Rhaegar to remove himself from the Wild Wolf’s grasp.

No one spoke as Rhaegar and Brandon caught their breaths. Everyone looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Lyanna’s eyes met Rhaegar’s and suddenly she felt fiery anger.

She pulled away from Benjen and stormed over to Rhaegar, picking up the nearest object she threw it at him with all of her might. “This is all your fault!” She hissed, the chalice she threw hitting him in the chest and falling to the floor with a loud clang. “You should’ve just left me alone!”

“Lyanna I’m sorry!” Rhaegar said, putting his hands up to block a tea cup she threw at him. “Please—

“You’ve gone and screwed everything up!” Lyanna cried taking a deep breath as her fear outgrew her anger, making tears spring to her eyes again. It was beginning to get harder to breathe. “I do not want to go to court! Why couldn’t you just leave me alone? Why? Why am I being forced to do this?”

“Lyanna, listen to me!” Rhaegar said as he grabbed her shoulders, trying to get her to look at him as she sobbed. “If you don’t accept, the King will kill your brothers, do you understand? He will kill each member of your family until you agree to bow in the sept and take my name.”

Lyanna couldn’t breathe. She took deep breaths, but still nothing would fill her lungs. “I can’t breathe,” she said as the reality started to crash down on her. She pushed Rhaegar away as she placed her hands on her sides, feeling her ribs lift and constrict as she heavily breathed. She had to go court. The _Mad King’s_ court. She had to marry Rhaegar and become Crown Princess. She couldn’t do it, didn’t _want_ to do it. “I can’t breathe.” Her vision started to go black as she fell to the floor.  

“Lyanna!” Her brothers and Rhaegar cried.

Lyanna felt someone lift her and call for a Maester. The last thing Lyanna saw before her world went black were dark indigo eyes.

 

Rhaegar only liked to drink on occasion or when the event called for it. And today, he felt, was an occasion, a very trying occasion. Putting the stopper back on the bottle he took a sip of the whiskey and grimaced as it burned down his throat.

Someone in a dark cloak slid into his tent startling him. He prepared himself in case it was an enemy or at worst the angry She Wolf. She had already visited him earlier after she was released from the Maesters care, and she had been just as angry then as she had been at the hall, ignoring Arthur as she stormed into his tent spitting angry words at him.

It was clear to him that any start of friendship he had begun to form with her was now gone, if the bruise from where the tea cup hit him was any sort of giveaway.  

But when the visitor removed their hood it was not the angry female Stark or an enemy, it was Elia Martell making his shoulders sag in relief.

“Did you know a chalice can leave a bruise if thrown hard enough?” He asked in nonchalance as Elia sat in one of the chairs by the small table.

She crossed her legs and looked at him expectantly “So…I take it that Lady Lyanna did not take the news of your betrothal well?”

Rhaegar gave an undignified snort, “That’s putting it lightly. If she could kill with words, I’d be dead twice over.”

Elia laughed and Rhaegar looked at her. “And you’re shocked about that?” She asked ignoring the Prince’s death look. “To her, this came out of nowhere with no warning. She didn’t know your father wanted you to find a bride.”

“To be honest it surprised me too, I never thought the King would ever pick her.”

“What did you expect when you crowned her at the tourney? It was going to bring her to his attention. And it was either going to be her or Cersei and the King would rather see his line die than marry you off to Cersei Lannister.”

“Half the time the King isn’t even aware of who he is, yet the time I want him to be oblivious he’s not. Typical.”

Elia laughed again making Rhaegar snap. “Stop laughing! There is nothing funny about this!”  

“I’m sorry,” the Sunspear Princess laughed. “But it is so typical for you.”

The Prince huffed, “It wouldn’t be this way if you had just said yes when I asked you.”

Elia smiled at him, “Then where would the fun be? I have a feeling that your life is going to be much more interesting with Lady Lyanna in it.”

“Interesting for whom? You or me?”

“You watch Rhaegar Targaryen, this time next year I bet you’ll be in love with Lady Lyanna or should I say Princess Lyanna.”

Rhaegar took a sip of the whiskey. At the way things were going, he very much doubted that. Lyanna couldn’t bare the sight of him and he was sure things with her were only going to get worse once they reached King’s Landing.

The Prince wondered what would’ve happened if he had actually asked her like originally planned. Would she have reacted as badly? He was at a loss of what to do and needed advice.  “You know, I was going to ask her originally, so I guess I should be happy.”

Elia’s smile dropped. “What?” Rhaegar nodded silently. “But she was betrothed to Robert Baratheon.”

“At one point I didn’t care,” Rhaegar said and took another sip closing his eyes.

“But why her? There were plenty of other, _more willing_ , maidens that you could’ve picked from.”

Rhaegar hesitated. He knew Elia was a trusted friend, she would never speak of what he was about to tell her, but would she understand? “There—is a prophecy, that says there is a Prince that was Promised, one who will bring eternal light to the world, would come from my line and he would be of ice and fire.

“After we spoke I saw Lyanna. I found out that she was from the North and assumed that she would be the ice to the fire. And then when I actually met her, I liked her. I like her spirit and her stubbornness and also her innocence. I didn’t care if she was betrothed to Robert.”

Elia stared at him intently, listening and processing everything he was telling her. No judgement or disbelief in her eyes. “Why didn’t you ask her then?”  

Rhaegar turned and faced the drink cart, feeling a sense of sadness. “I couldn’t do it,” he whispered, putting his cup down. “I couldn’t ask her. She has an innocence to her that I didn’t want court life to destroy.”

“You don’t know how she’ll handle court life,” Elia said softly.  

“It doesn’t matter who or what you are, everyone is destroyed when they come to the King’s court,” Rhaegar said still not turning to face her. “Whether it’s physically or mentally everyone changes.”

“Give her a little more credit. She’s stronger than you think.”

Rhaegar gave an aggravated sigh and ran his hand through his hair turning to face her. “What am I going to do?”

Elia sighed as she stood. Grabbing his arms she gently squeezed them, “There is nothing you can do. The King has commanded it so it will happen. But if you want your relationship with her to improve, I suggest you tell her the truth and treat her well.

“And once you get to King’s Landing whatever happens, make sure to defend her at all cost. Even if you know she’s in the wrong. You know as well as I do that there will be plenty of people against her and that you will be her only ally for a long time. Be her strength and give her guidance. And in time, I’m sure her opinion of you will change and things with her will be different.”

Rhaegar sighed again as he looked at Elia. “Why couldn’t you just say yes?”

The Princess laughed. “At least it isn’t Cersei.”

“I think I would’ve preferred Cersei, at least she’s already corrupted.”

“Bit your tongue,” Elia hissed, “the only throne she deserves is the one her maid has to clean every day.”

 

The small riding party rode in complete silence. The only sounds were of the horses snorting and stomping through the mud as they made their way towards King Landing.

It had only been three of the ten days of traveling and Lyanna was sick of it. She was constantly damp from the rain that seemed to follow them and she hated the awkward small talk that everyone seemed to want to start with her. She was wet and miserable.

She turned her slate eyes towards her _betrothed_. The Prince rode at the head of the party, the gloomy weather dulling his normally shiny silver hair. Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan Selmy rode next to him. They spoke lowly to each other and every once in a while one of them would turn back to briefly glance at her. The She Wolf made sure that each time she caught them she gave them her deadliest look.  

Lyanna was currently glaring at Rhaegar’s back, hoping his red cape would catch on fire. Her initial fear of going to King’s Landing had turned to anger at Rhaegar for letting the situation happen. And sitting on her horse letting her fester in it only made it worse.

If he had just left her alone, the King would’ve never known she existed. Hell, if she had never even gone to the tourney, then none of them would’ve known she existed. Her father did well shielding her from court and it blew up in all of their faces.

To think, she could’ve been on her way to the Stormlands with Robert. 

Lyanna thought of Robert and his parting words to her. When she was finally released from the maesters care after her fainting spell, Robert caught her storming to Rhaegar’s tent. He grabbed her by her arms and looked at her so intensely that she almost felt like she needed to look away.  _‘I would’ve treated you well,’_ he said to her before storming away.

The She Wolf didn’t know what to say. On one hand, she didn’t know if she should call him back and apologize or explain to him that she didn’t ask for this. It wasn’t her fault that the King was insane and picked her of all people to marry his son.

But on the other hand, she was almost relieved that she wasn’t going to be marrying Robert. She wasn’t going to have to put up with his antics and his possessiveness. So she let Robert go, watching his tall muscular form disappear down the hallway.

She also didn’t know how to feel about that. While she was happy that she was no longer going to be marrying Robert, she felt that the being Lady of the Stormlands was a much better option than being Crown Princess in the Mad King’s court. At least with Robert she knew what she was going into. With Rhaegar, Lyanna knew him even less than Robert. He could be just as mad and abusive as his father or another whoring bastard like Robert.

But as Lyanna softened her glare and really looked at the Prince as he laughed at something Ser Arthur said, she doubted that he was anything like his father or Robert.

Old Nan used to tell her that you can tell a lot about a person when they smiled genuinely, and the smile that Rhaegar was giving Arthur, open and so, so beautiful, showed that he truly was a noble and gentle soul like everyone claimed he was.

But it still didn’t simmer the anger that was boiling within her.

The Prince called for a halt, requesting to set up camp for the night. Lyanna almost cried in relief. Her back was sore from riding for three days and she was dying to change out of her wet clothes.

Lyanna jumped down from her horse, grabbing onto its lead before stretching. Her back twinged as she turned and twisted.

“You ride surprising well for a lady of high birth,” she heard from behind her, making her jump. She turned and saw Jon Connington looking at her with nothing but repulsion. “But then again there is a lack of refinement in women of the North. They are more barbaric then civilized.”

Lyanna gave him a blank look. “Such flattery, I bet you charm all the woman you talk to, don’t you?”  She replied flatly.

The Hand of the King snorted before straightening up as Rhaegar approached.

“Lyanna,” Rhaegar greeted. “The ride was well?”

“It was fine for a barbarian like me,” she said giving Jon a look her voice not rising from its flat tone. Rhaegar looked between them and opened his mouth to say something but she just shoved the lead into his hands and walked away, listening as Rhaegar asked Jon what he had said. Jon denying that he said anything.

The She Wolf huffed indigently; of course he’d deny that he said anything. She wandered toward the creek and sat down on a fallen trunk letting the sound of the flowing water try and relax her as the sun finally came out.

She took deep easy breaths, still feeling as if her nerves were about to explode. It was still hard to come to terms that she was on her way to King’s Landing and that she was to marry Prince Rhaegar.

That day had seemed so long ago, when Connington had told her the King wished to bind her hand to his sons. Lyanna thought she had heard it wrong the first time. Thought that maybe it was just a slip of words or she wasn’t just fully paying attention. But when the Hand had gone on to confirm that she was to marry the Prince she began to shut down. Like she wasn’t really there, she didn’t exist.

It was only when Rhaegar told her she had to marry him or the King would kill her family did it finally set in. She was going to marry Prince Rhaegar.

Her heart started to pound in nervousness again. Was King’s Landing as bad as people say it is? Was the court truly a horrific affair to attend?

Lyanna didn’t want to find out. She just wanted to mount her mare and run straight for the North.

 But she would never put her family’s life in danger, if she had to marry the Dragon Prince in order to keep them safe than that’s what she would do. What she’s going to do.

When she first met Rhaegar she was so bewitched by his good looks and his understanding nature, pardoning her because he understood that she only did it for her friend. When they officially spoke after the Knight of the Laughing Tree she was amazed that he was kind and sweet making her think that any woman would be lucky to marry him.

And now that _she_ was the one to marry him, Lyanna didn’t feel so lucky.   

“I apologize for whatever it was that Jon has said to you,” she heard Rhaegar say turning to see him come down the small hill, Arthur following a couple steps behind him. “He is not very personable.”

Lyanna said nothing as the Prince sat down next to her, resisting the urge to scoot away. She crossed her arms staring straight at the creek.

“It seems the sun finally came out,” Rhaegar said, trying to initiate a conversation. But Lyanna still said nothing, hoping the Prince would take the hint and leave her alone.

But Rhaegar continued to sit there. It was after a few minutes of silence that he spoke. “Lyanna, there’s something I need to tell you.” Lyanna glanced at him from the corner of her eye, signaling for him to continue. “I—it…The King commanded that I find a bride at the tourney.”

“Ah, well lucky for you, you found one,” she snipped.

“Yes, but he originally said that I could make the choice.”

“What happened? Your first choice said no so then you moved on to me? Is that why you crowned me Queen of Love and Beauty because you wanted my favor!?” Her voice got angrier with each word she spoke. Her face fell into a full frown.

“What? No!” Rhaegar said a hint of panic in his voice. “I crowned you because I really do you think you are beautiful!”

Lyanna gave him a blank look making the Prince sigh. “Alright, so maybe wanting your favor was a small reason that I crowned you. But I still stand by what I say; you are the most beautiful woman.”

The She Wolf huffed.  “Why didn’t you just crown your first choice? Maybe she would’ve said yes.”

“Elia said she was too sick to become queen,” Rhaegar said absently and Lyanna turned and glared at him as Arthur made a noise of indignation and the sound of his hand slapping his forehead could be heard.

There was a full look of panic on Rhaegar’s face “I mean uh—

 “So I was your second choice!?” Lyanna yelled feeling insulted. “How shitty you must feel to know you’re marrying your second choice. I was betrothed to Robert, were you afraid I was going to say no too? Is that why you got your father to force me to marry you?”

“Lyanna, forcing you to marry me was not my idea! It was fully my fathers. And you being betrothed to Robert was exactly why the King made the announcement. Because Robert needed to know that the command for us to marry came from the King himself. Otherwise he would’ve thought that it came from me and he would’ve never let you go.”   

Lyanna scoffed and stood, she didn’t want to hear any more of his nonsense. As it was she felt insulted. She noticed that the three Kingsguard that were traveling with them were standing by the base of the hill with Jon Connington, watching them. Lyanna felt her face contort into annoyance and began to walk away, but before she could even get two steps Rhaegar grabbed her arm. “Please Lyanna! There is something I must tell you.”

The look of desperation and sorrow on his face made Lyanna pause. “What?”

“Please, sit back down.”        

Lyanna sighed as she yanked her arm out of Rhaegar’s grasp and sat back down. Crossing her arms again she looked at him with an expectant look. “Well?”

Rhaegar looked at her for a moment, “Have you ever heard of the prophecy of the Prince that was Promised?”

“I’ve heard of the tale of Azor Ahai and the prophecy that he is to be reborn,” Lyanna said in a bored tone. That was one of Old Nan’s favorite bedtime stories, the tale of Azor Ahai bringing light to the world with his mighty sword Lightbringer.

“The prophecy I read was similar. It tells that there is a Prince that was Promised who will bring eternal light to the world and that he has a song—a song of ice and fire.”

“Interesting, maybe they’re the same prophecy,” Lyanna replied, not in the least bit interested.  

“Maybe,” Rhaegar said, “but the prophecy I read said that the Prince that was Promised is a descendant of my line—the line of fire.”

Realization came over Lyanna; he wasn’t seriously insinuating that she was the ice part, was he? “You don’t think that I’m the other part to this prophecy do you?” She asked with a laugh of disbelief.

“The prophecy says someone of fire and someone of ice. You are from the North, ice runs in your blood.”

Lyanna felt like screaming. “I knew it!” She yelled as she stood. “I knew there was another reason you wanted my attention. You only picked me because of some prophecy!”

Rhaegar stood too, “At first yes! But then I got to know—

“You don’t know anything about me!” She hissed. “You should’ve just let me marry Robert.”  

“You couldn’t stand the very thought of marrying Robert and now you’re saying you’d rather go off and marry him instead?” Rhaegar said angrily. “You’d rather deal with his drinking and whoring and his bastards than take a chance with someone who will treat you well?”

“I’d rather be married to someone who doesn’t want to use me for some prophecy!” She hissed. “You’re just like the rest of them, forcing me to marry you because of some treaty or prophecy.”

“I HAD NO CHOICE!” Rhaegar yelled. “How many times do I have to tell you that this was not my decision? Yes, I planned on asking you, but I feared what the King’s court would do to you, so I backed out.

“Why do you think that out of all the times we’ve spoken, all the opportunities I had, I never asked you? No one deserves to go to the King’s court. In fact, I tried to protect you! I tried to get the King to change his mind. But he wouldn’t listen.

“It’s not my fault the King sees the North as a threat, that is the only reason he picked you,” Rhaegar said in a deadly tone. “He wouldn’t have given a shit on who you were if it weren’t for your father joining his army with the Stormlands.”

Lyanna looked away as angry tears formed. She wished there was cliff so she could just jump off it and end everything. “You should’ve been persistent and said no. I don’t want to go to the Mad King’s court.”

“It’s too late,” Rhaegar said softly, as she wiped the tear from her cheek. “The command has been given. But I’m working on making our Kingdom safe again.”

“How?” Lyanna whispered.

“This is not the place to speak of such things, but I’m asking you to trust me that I’m working on it. For now we have to get along otherwise my father will become suspicious and will fault you for our unhappiness and punish you.”

They stood in silence as they mulled over their argument. Lyanna felt tired all of a sudden. This was too much for her in a span of a week.

“About the prophecy,” Rhaegar said lowly like he was speaking to a spooked horse. “I’m sorry for making you feel that I was only interested in you because of it. I don’t know if it’s true but if it is, it’s detrimental that the Prince that was Promised is born if we want the future to be a better and safer place.”

 Lyanna said nothing; she just stood there with her arms crossed staring at the creek. “I guess what I’m asking is,” Rhaegar continued “would you be willing to fulfill the prophecy with me?”

Lyanna felt anger again and looked at him haughtily, “If I say no will you release me from our vows and let me go home?”

“No,” Rhaegar said his voice still calm but held finality in it. “Dragons mate for life regardless of whether or not there is love in the marriage.”

Lyanna looked away in thought, wolves mated for life too. Giving him one more contemptuous look she stormed away, grabbing the whiskey bottle from Jon Connington’s hand and pushing Arthur and Barristan out of the way. “Move!”

The two Kingsguard and the Hand of the King looked at Rhaegar with raised eyebrows and all the Prince could do is shrug.  

 

 

 


	7. Chapter Seven

Lyanna griped her reins tighter as they made their way towards the Gate of the Gods. She tried to take inconspicuous deep breathes to calm herself, but with each step towards the large gate, her breath stopped coming all together.

As they approached, the She Wolf heard a gateman yell “Open the gate!” and the large gate was being pulled open. The creaking and groaning of the gate muted her heart beating in her ears.   

Lyanna felt someone stop next to her and turned to see Ser Arthur. “Now is the time to make a good first impression on the people,” he said not looking at her. “Acknowledge them, but do not show them your fear.”

The She Wolf watched him ride away, taking his place behind Rhaegar. Lyanna didn’t want the people to like her, but she knew if they didn’t then things in King’s Landing would be twice as terrible for her.

If the people didn’t like her then it would surly get around to the King, and the gods only knew what the King would do to her if he saw her as a poor Princess.

So she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders like she’d seen Brandon do when he was about to walk into a council meeting with father and his advisors, and held her head high. Urging her horse forward, she followed the small party inside the gate.

They were immediately greeted by the people. They lined the streets like a herd all calling for Rhaegar, begging him for his attention.  

“Prince Rhaegar! Prince Rhaegar!” They yelled in adoration, some throwing flowers at him others holding their hands out to him.

The Dragon Prince slowed his horse to a gait, acknowledging the people with a smile and head nod, he sometimes even grabbed someone’s hand or took an offered flower.

The Prince called for a halt as a woman held her swaddled baby out to him. Rhaegar, and the Kingsgaurd, jumped from their horses. He gently took the child and gave it a kiss on its head as he spoke to its mother. The crowd cheered wildly.

Lyanna took the moment to look around the city. She could see the Great Sept of Baelor and to the left of that Red Keep. The city smelled like fish and sows and she didn’t see a touch of green insight. No trees or shrubbery or flowers, just stone and clay. 

She felt the people staring at her, heard their wonderment at who she is and why she was returning with the Prince. Taking Arthur’s advice, she smiled at the ones who made eye contact with her and gave a small wave to others. Acknowledging them but not showing any of the fear she felt.

Rhaegar climbed back onto his horse and called for them to move forward.

Lyanna felt her heart drop into her stomach as they approached the large and ornate barbican that lead into the castle. They passed through it into a large courtyard, where adoring courtiers were waiting for the arrival of their prince.

Rhaegar waved but continued to move pass them and towards a second, smaller barbican that led to the actual castle.

Instead of adorning citizens waiting for them, it was stablemen with their heads held low in respect. Beyond them were others standing on the castle steps, and Lyanna noticed a tall woman with striking blond hair. A golden diadem sat proudly on her head. Her arms were wrapped around a little blond boy in front of her who was squirming in excitement.

A White-Cloak stood vigilantly behind them.

They stopped in front of the waiting party, Rhaegar dismounted first and immediately came to her side to help her down from her horse, like he had been doing the entire ride to King’s Landing.

Lyanna was about to brush him off, like she had been doing every time he came to help her, but realized that it would not set a good picture if she did.

So she allowed him to help her down, thanking him quietly as he escorted her to the waiting party on the steps.

Before any sort of introduction could be made, the little blond boy dashed out of his mother’s arms.

“Rhaegar!” he cried in excitement as he ran down the steps and into Rhaegar’s arms. 

Rhaegar laughed as he squeezed the little boy tightly. “Hello, Viserys.”

Lyanna watched as Viserys grabbed his brother’s hand and started talking to him animatedly. It wasn’t until the young Prince’s eyes rested on her did he stop. “Who’s she?”

“Vis,” Rhaegar said as he turned his brother fully to her, and like their mother wrapped his arms around the little Prince. “I’d like you to meet Lyanna; she’s going to be my wife. Lyanna, this is my little brother, Prince Viserys.”  

“It’s nice to meet you Prince Viserys,” Lyanna greeted with a bow. “Your brother speaks of no one else.”

Viserys smiled, “You’re going to marry Rhaegar?” Lyanna nodded with a slight smile. “But he’s so smelly.”

“Hey!” Rhaegar said in mock offence, tickling his little brother in the sides making the six-year-old giggle.

“Viserys,” a soft voice called and both brothers turned to the blonde woman on the steps. Viserys left his brothers side and ran to his mother, jumping into her open arms.

Rhaegar held his hand out for Lyanna’s and she hesitantly placed her hand in his. The Dragon Prince brought her in front of the blonde woman and bowed slightly to her. “Lyanna, this is my mother, Her Majesty Queen Rhaella of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Queen Rhaella was just as beautiful as her son. Long blonde, almost silver, hair and sharp violet eyes. She stood tall and thin in stature and had an angled, but proportionate face. Lyanna bowed deeply “Your Majesty.”

“Mother, may I present, Lady Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, my betrothed.”

The She-Wolf felt the deep stare from the beautiful Queen but she did not look away. “So this is the girl who the King is forcing you to marry,” Queen Rhaella said to Rhaegar, her expression blank but her violet eyes spoke for her. Lyanna couldn’t tell if her eyes told of disapproval or acceptance, but before the She-wolf could decipher the queen turned back to Rhaegar. “She’s very beautiful.”

“She is, Your Majesty,” Rhaegar said and Lyanna bowed again in thanks, trying to hold down her blush. The Dragon Prince pointed to an old man with a hunch that was standing behind his mother. “That is Maester Pycelle, and next to him Ser Jaime Lannister.”

Jaime bowed to her, “It is an honor to serve you, my Lady.” The She-Wolf briefly glanced at the Golden Lion, noticing his arrogance immediately and not liking it.   

“I’m sure you are all exhausted from the journey,” Queen Rhaella said, “why don’t you wash, rest, and we can catch up at supper. We’ll dine in my quarters.”

“Yes ma’am,” Rhaegar said as he and Lyanna bowed again.

“Come Viserys, it’s time for your lesson with Septon Mardon,” Queen Rhaella said as she and Viserys went into the castle.

“But mama, I want to go with Rhaegar,” Viserys pleaded, his voice becoming distant as they moved farther away into the castle.

“Your Highness,” Maester Pycelle called, “there are some urgent matters waiting for you and the Hand in your chambers.”

Rhaegar’s shoulders sagged as he sighed. “Thank you Pycelle,” he said turning to Lyanna. “I was going to show you to your room, but I’m afraid duty calls. Get some rest; I will come for you when it is time for supper. Septa Prea will escort you to your room.”

A woman who had been standing next to Maester Pycelle come forward and bowed. “It’s nice to meet you, my Lady.” She had a stern voice; her short wrinkled face looked like it was in a scowl.

“You as well Septa Prea,” Lyanna said.

Rhaegar kissed her hand. “Rest well, My Lady.”

Lyanna said nothing as she watched Rhaegar, Arthur, and Jon stride up the steps and disappear down a hall, Pycelle going after them explaining whatever it was that need the Prince’s attention.

“My Lady if you’ll follow me,” Septa Prea said and began to go down an opposite hallway. Ser Barristan followed quietly behind them. “You’ll be staying in the Maiden Vault until your marriage to his Royal Highness, once married you’ll move into Meagor’s Holdfast.”

Lyanna tuned out what Septa Prea was saying as she tried to memorize the route they were taking. It should be easy to remember, it was right behind the Royal Sept.

They walked through the large oak doors and into the sitting room. Lyanna didn’t get a good look at it as Septa Prea walked straight towards one of the doors that was across from the large vaulted window. “This will be your temporary room.”

Lyanna looked around the room. Paneled with dark wood and had stone for flooring. The large for poster bed sat in the middle. There was a tub in front of one of the large windows and a folding screen door for her to change behind in the corner of the room. In another corner there was a small desk and an armoire next to it.

“Did you bring any ladies maids with you?” Septa Prea asked.

“Oh-uh no,” Lyanna stumbled. She was told that Robert would provide them for her once she arrived at Stormlands.

“That’s alright, I’m sure the Queen will provide them for you. Your personal belongings should be arriving any moment. Is there anything you would like while you wait? Some food? Water for a bath?”

“A bath would be wonderful,” Lyanna said excited at the thought of hot water.

“Right away ma’am,” Septa Prea said and left the room.

Lyanna looked around not sure what to do. She was exhausted, but too anxious to lie down and sleep. Plus, she wanted to bathe so there was no sleeping until she scrubbed herself clean.

Leaving the room, she was startled to see Ser Barristan standing guard at her door.

“Ser Barristan!” She said with a hand over her heart.

“I’m sorry, my Lady I did not mean to startle you,” Ser Barristan said.

“It’s alright; I just wasn’t expecting to see you there.” Her heart going back down to a normal beat.

“A White Cloak will always be posted outside of your door.”

“Always?”

Barristan nodded. “Always. A White Cloak will always be available if you need one. You will never be without a guard.”

Lyanna tried not to wince. Being followed was something she was going to have to get used to. In the Winterfell, there was never really a need for a constant guard. Of course there were the guards that kept watch, but never one to follow her father or brothers around. But then again Winterfell wasn’t Westeros. Someone wasn’t plotting to kill you at every moment of the day.  

Lyanna just nodded her displeasure still on her face. Looking around the sitting room, it too was paneled with dark wood and decorated with antique decorations. A dining table with six chairs sat in the middle, and to the left of it were a set of couches and tea tables. Next to the couches were two bookshelves over flowing with books. There were three large vaulted windows, covered by white sheer curtains with a long bench in front of them. To the right of the dining table was a large fireplace and hanging above it was a portrait of three beautiful women.

Lyanna wandered over to the portrait and studied them. They were sisters that was obvious and Targaryen’s from the looks of it. Their silver hair giving them away. They had a certain anger in their eyes but their faces were full of melancholy.

“Do you know that story of the Maiden Vault?” Ser Barristan asked and Lyanna shook her head.

“When Baelor the First ascended the throw after the death of his older brother Daeron he locked his three sisters, Daena, Rhaena, and Elaena in these chambers.’”

Lyanna turned to Barristan. “Why?”

“Baelor was a very pious man, he believed that his sisters were too beautiful, too innocent, to be shown the wickedness of the world. And like every other man sharing a house with beautiful women, Baelor was afraid that he and every other man in court would have carnal thoughts due to his beautiful sisters. So he locked them away. And thus the Maiden Vault was created. They were imprisoned for ten years, until the death of their brother.” 

“That’s so sad,” Lyanna whispered, looking at the woman in the middle. She had the fiercest look of them all.

Before she could ask any more questions there was a knock on the door and five maids came in, four of them carrying large barrels of hot water, the other carried linens. Behind them were servants carrying her belongings. Her longing for a bath suddenly came back to her in full force.

“If you’ll excuse me, Ser Barristan,” Lyanna said and Ser Barristan gave a nod of his head.

 

“What was he thinking? Forcing this girl to marry you,” Rhaella said. She was pacing back and forth, the skirt of her dress making whooshing noises as she walked. The gold of her crown nearly blended into her hair.  

“Will you please make sure to bring a plate to Lady Stark’s room, in case she wakes up?” Rhaegar asked a servant that was cleaning the supper plates. When he had gone to escort her to supper, Ser Barristan had informed him that she had been sleeping. Knowing how tired she was from traveling, the Dragon Prince decided not to disturb her.    

“Of course, Your Highness,” the servant said.

“He is wary of the North,” Rhaegar answered to his mother.

“Paranoid is more like it. The King will have the whole Kingdom burned because of his paranoia if he could.”

“Mother,” Rhaegar said and moved his eyes to Viserys, who was sitting beside him reading a book.

Rhaella continued to pace, switching from the common tongue to High Valyrian. “And who is this girl he’s promised you to? Who is he to promise you to someone that’s not good enough for you? Someone’s whose blood could be tainted.”

“Mother!” Rhaegar said, offended that she would even say something like that.  “You don’t even know her to pass a judgment like that!”

“I am sorry, Rhaegar,” Rhaella said pausing in her steps to look at him with remorse.

“And she is of high birth and has the blood of the First Men. I say she is probably the best fit for me,” Rhaegar said, his eyebrows cinched in anger as he watched his mother. “Give her a chance.”  

“I have no qualms about her pedigree, Rhaegar,” she said softly as she continued to pace. “Nor her age, nor her intellect, or anything like that.”

“Then what is it that has you so irritated?” Rhaegar asked, watching as his mother pause by the window. He spoke again in High Valyrian, mindful of Viserys who was clutching Rhaegar’s arm tightly as he read. The young Prince was still a novice in the language, so they knew he wouldn’t understand.

The Queen was quiet as she looked out the window. It was a few more moments before she took a breath and spoke. “For years I had begged for a daughter. I had begged for anything that would make the King’s condition better, to make everything better. But now I see that Shaena’s death and my still born daughter and all those miscarriages that could’ve been daughters—their deaths are a blessing,” she said softly in High Valyrian, not turning away from the window. “I am grateful, for they will never have to bare the King’s will. They will never be forced to marry their brother for the sake of some prophecy.”

Rhaegar was taken aback. His still born and miscarried siblings were a taboo conversation and his mother never spoke of them. He couldn’t fault his mother’s thoughts for in a way, he was grateful that none of his sisters had lived. There was no telling what the King would’ve done to them. As it was, he feared for Viserys who, thanks to their mother’s tireless efforts, was still blinded to the King’s true self.  But as his brother grew older, it would be harder and harder to hide the truth.

“I fear for her, Rhaegar. This place—our family,” Rhaella paused and turned. There was unmasked sadness in her eyes and from this angle and the way the setting sun shined on her, the Dragon Prince could see the light yellowish green remnants of a healed bruise on his mother’s cheek. “You will be kind to her, won’t you Rhaegar? You’ll protect her when no one else will?”

The Dragon Prince couldn’t muster the emotion to be offended again. Rhaegar was not blind to the King’s madness and mistreatment of his mother. He had gone through plenty of beatings by the King’s own hand for trying to protect his mother from him. But he remembered the time when the King was just like him, kind-hearted, calm, sane. But as the years progressed, everything became worse. The King began to become filled with suspicion and his descent into madness became more rapid.

“I will protect her mother, at all cost. I will not be like him.”

His mother smiled at him and walked towards him. “My boy,” she said placing a tender hand on his cheek, “my sweet boy. I know no harm will come to her with you around.”

“I don’t understand why Rhaegar has to get married,” Viserys said, finally putting his book down. It was a fairy tale book and he must’ve just gotten to the end where the Prince and Princess got married and lived happily ever after. “Girls are gross.”

 “Hush Viserys, you will be married too one day,” The Queen said, brushing his shaggy blond hair back from his face.

The look of horror on his littler brother’s face made Rhaegar and his mother laugh. He was willing to do anything to keep that smile on his mother’s face. Anything.

“I will make things better, mother,” Rhaegar said, kissing her hand. “I promise.”

Rhaella squeezed his hand. “I hope you do, my love, for the sake of your betrothed and your future children.”

“I will mother, trust me.” Rhaegar

The Queen smiled. “You will be a good husband, Rhaegar and a good father. I know you will be.”

Rhaegar smiled back at her. “She’ll be a great wife, mother, and Queen. Give her a chance.”

 His mother looked at him as she called for Ser Jaime. The blond Kingsgaurd came in swiftly, giving the Queen a bow. “Your Grace?”

“Tell Ser Barristan that I send an invitation to Lady Stark, tomorrow she and I shall have tea in the gardens. I would like to get to know my future good-daughter.”

 

Lyanna woke slowly, her eyes and body still begging for sleep. But she could see signs of late morning sunlight peeking through the closed drapes and her mind would no longer rest.

Standing, she looked around and noticed a plate and a pitcher of water. It dawned on her that she had missed dinner and probably breakfast. Lifting the plate cover, she saw fresh baked bread, fruit, porridge, and some boiled eggs.

Her stomach gave a loud growl making the She-Wolf notice how hungry she really was.

Before she sat down, there was a knock at her door as Septa Prea was announced.

“Come in,” Lyanna said as she sat down.

Septa Prea came in with a handful of maids and they bowed slightly as Septa Prea greeted her. “Good morning, Lady Lyanna. How was your rest?”

“It was wonderful to be able to sleep on something soft after so many days of travel,” she said before inelegantly shoving a fork full of fruit in her mouth. 

“I am glad to hear that you slept well,” the Septa said as the maids began getting her clothing ready for the day. “Ser Barristan has informed me that her Majesty the Queen has invited you to afternoon tea.”

Lyanna dropped the full fork she was holding, it made a loud clatter as it hit the plate. “What?”

“The Queen would like to get to know her future good-daughter and has requested that you meet her in the gardens.”

Anxiety raced through Lyanna making her appetite disappear. She was going to be alone with the queen. If the queen was anything like her brother, then afternoon tea was going to be hell. Her face must’ve told of her anxieties for Septa Prea placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Don’t be nervous, My Lady. Take comfort in knowing that it is such an honor to be invited to tea by the queen.”

The She-Wolf wasn’t comforted at all. If anything, it made her heart race faster.

Septa Prea patted her shoulder and walked away, gathering Lyanna’s clothing for the day, leaving the She-Wolf to drown in her thoughts.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath ‘I will not be afraid, I will not be afraid, I will not be afraid. Direwolves are never afraid.’ She thought.

Grabbing the dropped fork, she began to eat again. Thinking the mantra over and over until her anxiety dissipated.

 

The sunlight beating down on her made Lyanna sweat, it didn’t help that she was wearing a heavy dress of linen and fur. Weather in the North was always cold; there were no need for dresses made of silk and gauze unless you wished to freeze to death. She was told, by Robert himself, that once she arrived at the Stormlands she would be able to hire a dressmaker to make dresses that would stand the warmer weather.

The gardens were beautiful, full of plants and flowers that Lyanna had never seen. It certainly smelled better, the fragrant exotic flowers masking the smell of death and decay of the city.

Ser Barristan led her through a graveled path until they reached the shaded area that faced the bay. There was a large circular table that was laid out with tea cups and sweets.

Sitting on one side was the queen, dressed in a beautiful silk green gown with her golden crown proudly on top of her head. Next to her was Viserys who was also dressed in green to match his mother. His little hand was smacked as he began to reach for a sweet, the queen quietly scolding him to wait for their guest.

Ser Jaime stood quietly beside them until he noticed her approaching presence and alerted the queen.

Lyanna bowed when the queen looked at her. “Your Majesty,” she said as Rhaella stood.  

“Lady Lyanna,” The queen said and came over to her, kissing each of her cheeks. “Thank you for joining us.”

“It is an honor to have tea with you, ma’am. You may call me Lyanna, if you’d like.”

“Can I call you Lyanna too?” Viserys asked as he bounded up next to his mother in all of his six year old glory.

Lyanna couldn’t help but smile. “Of course you can, Your Highness.”

“Oh, oh then you can call me Viserys! Or Vis! Rhaegar likes to call me Vis. I think it’s because he’s too lazy to say my full name.”

Lyanna laughed and felt more at ease now that she knew little Viserys would be there to break the tension.

“Come, let’s sit down,” the Queen said and led Lyanna to the table.

They sat down and the servants immediately began to pour the tea. There was an awkward silence. Lyanna didn’t know what to say.

The queen smiled just at her and shooed the servants away. “So Lyanna, what do you think of King’s Landing?”

“To be honest Your Majesty, I’m not sure. I wasn’t able to tour the castle yesterday and I only had a brief glimpse of the city. But so far, it looks very lovely.”

 “Too bad that it smells like a rotting corpse,” Viserys said with a mouth full of cake.

“Viserys! Where are your manners?” The queen scolded as she wiped crumbs from his doublet.

Lyanna laughed as she was reminded of Benjen, for he too liked to talk with his mouth full.

“You remind me of my little brother,” Lyanna told him. “He was just like you.”

Viserys just smiled as he bit into another cake.  

“Tell me a little about yourself, Lyanna,” The queen said. “Your family and life in Winterfell, I have never been to the North.”

“Is it true that it always snows there?” Viserys asked his face full of crumbs. 

“Yup, its almost always snowing. And when the rare times that there is no snow, then its raining, giant freezing drops of rain,” she replied and could suddenly smell the crisp cool air of the North. And just like that, Lyanna felt herself fully becoming at ease as she spoke of her homeland, the Queen and Vierys intently listening to her as she spoke of the castle, and the snow, and the holy godswood. By the end of it, the She-Wolf made herself more homesick.

Lyanna’s eyebrows knitted as her heart became heavy in the yearning to be home again. It wasn’t until she felt a hand grasp her own did she look up.

The She-Wolf looked up through eyes that were blurred with tears into the Queen’s sympathetic face. She vaguely noted that Viserys was no longer sitting with them, but playing in the gardens next to them.

“It is such a burden to be a woman in this life. We are forced from our homes and have our dreams crushed just for the sake of men. I am sorry that you were forced from your home to come here.”

Lyanna gave her a closed mouth smile and squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m sure with time King’s Landing will be a place I feel is my home.”

“It will. Once you grow comfortable with Rhaegar and your new role. King’s Landing will be home just as much as Winterfell. However, to help prepare you for your role as Crown Princess and eventually Queen, you must begin lessons with Septa Prea.”

Lyanna looked at her in confusion, “Lessons?”

“Yes, you will start lessons with Septa Prea on proper court etiquette, the history of our family, and High Valyrian. It will be a very difficult transitioning period for you but I have faith that you will excel.”

They heard giggling and turned to look. Across the gardens three courtier women stood in a small group giggling as Rhaegar and Arthur walked by them, sweating from their swordplay. Both men paid the women no attention.

 The Queen sighed as she sat back in her chair and slightly shook her head. “Another thing you must do is always be on your guard and trust no one. People here are advantageous and cunning.

“They are willing to do anything to make themselves richer and higher in society. And I’m afraid that the women are no better. I am not unaware of the leeching maidens that seek to have my eldest sons hand in marriage and now that you are here, I am afraid they are only going to get worse.”

Lyanna took a sip of tea, hoping to swallow the uneasiness that began to creep up. She could feel the courtiers stare at her now that Rhaegar and Arthur had gone from their sight.

A servant appeared out of nowhere, breathless from his obvious jog. “Your Majesty,” he said as he bowed. “I have urgent news.”

“What is it?” The Queen asked looking at the servant with worry.

“The King has arrived in King’s Landing. He’ll be here in fifteen minutes time.”

Dread filled Lyanna again, they were enjoying such a nice afternoon. She turned to look at Queen Rhaella and watched as all the color drained from the Queen’s face. Her friendly disposition changed as she looked at Lyanna with a detached coldness.

“Ser Barristan, take Lady Lyanna to the front steps. Rhaegar and I shall be there shortly,” she said as she stood. Lyanna stood quickly and bowed as the Queen took her leave, calling for Viserys in an urgent tone.  

“If you’ll come this way, My Lady,” Ser Barristan said. Lyanna followed the Kingsguard closely, noticing how the castle was in a flurry as they prepared for the King’s arrival. She noticed how tense the atmosphere became and how everything suddenly seemed so different compared to yesterday.

Ser Barristan led her to the same steps she was greeted at, except there were no courtiers crying for attention. Nor could she hear the crowds from the city cheering for the King like they did for the Crown Prince. In fact, it was silent. Like there was no one on the streets. The only sound was the wind and her own heartbeat.

From this distance she could see the King’s black carriage and riding party. It hit her that things are going to change now. This one-day interlude of relaxation was over. The King was back and so would be the burnings, the tortures, and the unpredictableness of the Mad King.

“Lyanna,” she heard Rhaegar call and he appeared by her side. He was clean from sweat and had changed into fresh clothes. His hair was half pulled back into neat plaits. Her face must’ve given away her thoughts for the Prince placed a gentle hand on her arm. “It’ll be alright.”

“Will it?” She asked and Rhaegar just brought her into a hug. It took her a moment, but she never pulled away, taking momentary comfort in his strong arms.

“Enough of that,” snapped the Queen as she walked down the steps with Ser Jaime. Viserys was no longer with her.

Rhaegar pulled away slowly and gently lifted her chin. “Everything will be alright,” he whispered to her. “Trust me.”

Lyanna gave no response, just followed Rhaegar a couple of steps down and took his offered arm. ‘I will not be afraid, I will not be afraid.’ She began the mantra again as the King’s carriage pulled into the courtyard and everyone bowed low.

There was rustling and grunting as the King got out of the carriage. The smell of death and decay became worse as the King approached the waiting party.

“Wife,” he snapped in greeting and Rhaella bowed lower.

“Husband. I trust your journey was well?”

The King just grunted and moved to Rhaegar. Lyanna clutched his arm tighter and they bowed lower. ‘I am not afraid, I am not afraid.’

The King said nothing as he looked over them. The smell coming from him was awful and Lyanna slightly struggled to not vomit. “You’re new whore doing you well, boy?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Rhaegar said with ease.

She felt the King’s gaze on her as he stood in front of her. For a moment, she panicked that he was going to touch her. But the King merely grunted again as he turned away. “Get her some different dresses; I don’t want to see any filthy Northern rags in my Keep.”

They all bowed again in silence as the King disappeared into the Keep, Varys and Master Pycelle following after him.

‘I will not be afraid,’ she thought as she released the breath she had been holding, her body still full of tension but her fear for now calmed. ‘Direwolves are never afraid,’ she thought one final time before being escorted back into the Keep.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very little Lyanna/Rhaegar in this chapter. It's more of a filler really. 
> 
> I am so, so, so, so sorry this took so long to come out. School kinda just swooped in and took over and I was not expecting that.  
> I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again, probably not until sometime in late November, but I'm not going to abandon the story! So don't worry. 
> 
> If there are any mistakes I'm sorry, I was kinda rushing because I wanted to get this out.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, sorry this has taken so long to come out. School is super exhausting this semester and takes up a lot of my free time. My exams are in three weeks and after that I have two weeks off before my summer classes start, so I hope to have another chapter out by then. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the comments and continued support. I hope that you enjoy this chapter (even though it is just another filler chapter). If you have any comments, questions, or suggestions let me know!

Lyanna sighed softly in boredom as Septa Prea gave her lesson on High Valyrian. Her days were full of nothing but lessons and meetings with the Queen on proper etiquette, as if her father and Old Nan hadn’t taught her well.

She wondered what her life would be like right now if she hadn’t been chosen for the Prince or if her father hadn’t made the arrangement with Robert. Would she be tending to the gardens with Benjen, or off sword fighting with Bran? Would she be playing chess in the library with Ned or out riding Snow in the Wolfswood hoping for a peak of a direwolf?

 With each passing day, the She Wolf longed harder for the freedom of the North and with it, her heart grew sadder.

“Lady Lyanna, are you paying attention?”

The She Wolf perked up at being caught daydreaming, “Yes?”

Septa Prea sighed, “Lyanna.”

Lyanna groaned, “We’ve been practicing for days. It is such a nice day outside. Can’t we go take a walk in the gardens, at least?”

“I would’ve never taken you as someone who became lazy with their studies,” she heard someone quip from behind her and rolled her eyes.

She turned in her chair and gave a smirking Jaime Lannister a blank stare. “I did not give you permission to speak so freely to me.”

“And you are not my Crown Princess yet, so I can speak to you anyway I please.” Jaime gave her another smile which she returned.

Ever since the King had returned almost two weeks ago, it seemed that she had become saddled with Ser Jaime as her Kingsguard a majority of the time, forcing them to forge some type of odd friendship that was full of snarky comments and a lot of eye rolling.

“Ser Jaime if you are not going to be conducive to her Ladyship’s learning than I suggest you go stand outside and have Ser Barristan stand in here instead.”

Ser Jaime bowed his head slightly, “My apologies, Septa.”

Lyanna gave him a smug smile until Septa Prea tapped her pointing stick on the table to get her attention. “Lady Lyanna, you are expected to speak your vows in High Valyrian on your wedding day. Even tonight, the King might test you on your skills.”    

“Yes ma’am,” Lyanna said as she looked back down at the book full of Valyrian phases placed in front of her.

Tonight she was to be officially introduced to King’s Landing as Rhaegar’s betrothed.  The King was to also announce the date of the wedding.

There was a knock on the door and Jaime announced the maids. “It is time to start getting her ladyship ready for the feast, Septa,” one maid said.

“Very well,” Septa Prea said as Lyanna stood. “We’ll practice some more while you’re getting ready.”

 

Rhaegar fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt as his valet finished tying his doublet. Tonight was the night the King officially announced his engagement. As if the announcement at Harrenhal wasn’t official enough.

Rhaegar looked at himself in the mirror and gave an approving nod. He was wearing a light tan doublet, with a white tunic underneath. His pants were a darker tan with his boots matching the color. His hair was pulled back into a tight plait, with the end lying over his shoulder.

He would normally wear darker colors for he was told that those colors suited him. But his mother informed him that Lyanna was wearing a light color and it would be best to wear light colors as well, for if he wore dark colors some might take that as he was unhappy.

Nodding to himself this time in the mirror, the Dragon Prince felt a certain emotion fall over him. It wasn’t excitement exactly, but something close to it. The prophecy will finally be coming true now that he has his Ice. There was a high possibility that Prince that was Promised would be born and that thought alone made Rhaegar feel good.

Though he wasn’t sure that Lyanna felt the same way.  In fact, he was sure she did not feel the same way.

There was a knock on his door and Arthur let himself in. The Kingsguard was in his white armor like always, Dawn at his side. “There is someone here to see you.”

Rhaegar looked at him through the mirror “Who is it?” It couldn’t be his mother, she had just left. Nor the King, he never came down to his chambers unless it was important and even then he barged in rather than wait to be announced. Viserys too, liked to barge in, so it couldn’t be him either.

“It’s the Spider,” Arthur said his face holding the same curiosity that Rhaegar’s morphed into.

What could the Spymaster possibly want? “Send him in.”

The smell of lilacs immediately swallowed the room as the bald man waltz in. His was wearing bright blue silks and his face was powered in white. He bowed lowly. “Your Grace.”

“What is it that brings you here, Spymaster?” Rhaegar said as he turned back to the mirror, lifting his arm so his valet could tie the cloak around him. It too was a light tan color and had a dragon stitched in golden thread with rubies as its eyes.

“There seems to already be displeasure on your choice of bride and the announcement hasn’t even been made yet,” Varys said in his usual soft spoken voice.

Rhaegar scoffed with a laugh. “Of course there is, no matter who I picked, people were bound to be unhappy. What makes these people so unhappy this time? The fact that it wasn’t their daughter? Or the fact that it was done without their consultations?”

 “There is the complaint that Lady Stark has bewitched you into marrying her.”

“Like a witch?” Rhaegar asked Arthur with a smile, but the Kingsguard barley moved his lips, clearly not finding it funny.

“They also say that she seduced you and that she is now carrying your child, forcing you to marry her,”

Rhaegar laughed to himself. That was hardly the case. If these people knew the real reason why Rhaegar wanted Lyanna to marry him, they’d be bowing to her on their knees. She will bring the savior into the world, just…not yet.

“There is also the complaint that this is a political marriage and the North is only using you so they can ascend the throne, for it is their rightful place being descendants of the First Men.”

“Silence them,” Rhaegar said turning to fully look at Varys. “I will not have Lyanna’s good name besmirched do to some jealous harlot.”

Varys bowed. “There is one more thing, Your Highness.”

Rhaegar looked at him.

“My little birds told me there is a possibility of someone poisoning Lady Stark.”

All the blood went cold in Rhaegar’s body. “What?”

“Due to the nature of some people and the current rumors going around, some want to bring it upon themselves to—” he paused, “free you from your so called burden of a political marriage.”

“Why are you telling me and not the guard?”

Varys was silent as he looked at Rhaegar expectantly.

“It’s someone within the castle then?” Arthur said sharing a look with Rhaegar. “Any idea on who it could be?”

Varys shook his head. “Unfortunately my little bird did not get to see who it was due to it being so dark. Seeing as we don’t know when the assailant will strike, it is best to be on high guard.”  

“Arthur—

“I’ll see to it,” The Kingsguard said before Rhaegar could finish. “I’ll alert the others too.”

“I suggest keeping it only between the two of you. And Jaime Lannister, seeing as he is her assigned guard most of the time.”

“Do you think a Kingsguard would go against their oath and harm the royal family?” Arthur snapped. “Lose all honor they have just for money and recognition?”

“I think anyone is capable of anything, Ser Dayne, even a Kingsguard,” Varys said his voice even and calm. “Who’s to say that your definition of honor is the same as someone else’s?”

“What do you advise we do, Spymaster?” Rhaegar said, placing a calming hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

Varys held his hands out in surrender. “Do as you’d like, Your Highness, but be cautious. You know how it is in Kings Landing; even the smallest things can become grand and out of control.”

 

Lyanna looked at herself in the mirror as one of the hand maids straightened out the train of the dress. She smoothed her hand down her new dress, feeling the soft chiffon. It was very beautiful, light pink with a gold pattern. It hung off her shoulders with winged sleeves and a sash made of pearls and crystals around her waist.

She refused for her hair to be done in the large and ornate fashion of King’s Landing.  Instead, half of her hair was plaited and wrapped around her head like a crown, the rest hung loose down her back. Pearls were placed sporadically around the plaits.   

The She Wolf looked at her face in the mirror. Dabbed in make-up and without any type of fur, Lyanna hardly recognized herself.

“You look beautiful,” Septa Prea said. “How do you say beautiful in Valyrian?”

“Gevie,” Lyanna responded still staring at herself. She didn’t feel right, wearing these new clothes.

Jaime walked over and gave Lyanna a once over. “You clean up well for an ugly wolf girl” he said giving her a smirk.

Lyanna scoffed “Shut up,” she said and stood in front of the mirror, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. She felt like she was two seconds away from passing out, the last thing she wanted to hear was Jamie Lannister’s asinine comments.  

“I’m serious,” Jaime said as he leaned against the large mirror and crossed his arms, “those dull northern colors do nothing for you. But this, I think you look absolutely ravishing in pink. In fact, I think I prefer you in this color.” 

The She-Wolf had to refrain from scoffing again, settling to just rolling her eyes as she looked up at him. “Does that comment really work on women?” she asked, fighting down a blush. Despite Jaime always being on her nerves, his compliments, even if they’re mostly made in jest, always made her blush. Which he used to his advantage often. 

“I wouldn’t know,” he said in an airy manner as he examined his nails “as a Kingsgaurd I am not allowed to know the touch of a woman and I take my vows seriously.”

Even the handmaiden that was helping Lyanna scoffed. “I’m sure you do,” the She Wolf said.

Before the Kingsguard could comment there was a knock on the door and the Queen was announced.

Everyone bowed low as the Rhaella entered. She too was dress in the light chiffon fabric. Her hair elegantly placed in an intricate half bun with the rest of her hair falling down her back, her signature golden crown on her head.

 “You look very beautiful, my dear,” The Queen said as she motioned for Lyanna to stand.

“As do you, your Majesty,” Lyanna said as she bowed again.

Rhaella smiled at her and reached her hand out. “I have a gift for you,” she said as her hand maiden placed a long box in her hand.

Lyanna took the offered box and opened it. When she saw what was inside her mouth dropped and her eyes got wide. It was a necklace. A large, pear shaped diamond hung in the center, it was surrounded by small opals that hung from a triple string pearl chain.

“Your Majesty,” Lyanna said breathlessly, she had never seen something so beautiful. “This is—this is beautiful.”

“It was my mother’s,” Rhaella said. “She gave it to me on the night of my betrothal announcement, just as her mother gave it to her.”

The Queen lifted the necklace from its protective box and motioned for Lyanna to turn around.  “It’s been in our family for hundreds of years. And now I am continuing on the tradition by giving it to you.”  

The necklace was heavy and Lyanna couldn’t take her eyes off of it. “Thank you,” she said sincerely as she looked at the Queen in the mirror. “I promise to uphold the tradition when the time comes.”

The Queen smiled as Lyanna looked at herself again and for the first time in many days felt apprehension. Tonight it would be official; she would be the betrothed to Crown Prince Rhaegar of Dragonstone.

There was a knock on the door as Jaime let himself in. He bowed slightly “The Crown Prince is here for Lady Stark.”   

Queen Rhaella nodded and lifted Lyanna’s chin gently. “Do not show him you fear,” she said softly, and Lyanna got the feeling that the Queen wasn’t talking about Rhaegar.

Lyanna could do nothing but give back a tense smile. Taking a deep breath, she nodded to the handmaiden and followed the Queen out of the door. ‘I am not afraid, I am not afraid.’

Rhaegar’s head snapped up as she entered the hallway. Besides meals this is the most they had seen each other since the Mad King’s arrival two weeks ago. Rhaegar had always been called away for princely duties and she was always in lessons.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Rhaella said.

Once the Queen was gone, a silence fell over them. They looked at each other, neither knowing what to say. It wasn’t until Arthur gave an awkward cough did Rhaegar clear his throat and say, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Lyanna said, still not sure what to say, though another blush stained her cheeks.

“Will you give us a moment?” Rhaegar asked after another few moments of silence. Arthur and Jaime both gave a head nod and left to stand outside of the hallway.

The silence didn’t improve when the Kingsguard left. But before another awkward silence could settle in Lyanna spoke. “You look better in darker colors,” she said before realizing it. Her eyes got wide as shock fell over Rhaegar’s face. “I-uh I mean, you look handsome, but I think I prefer you in darker colors.” Lyanna mentally smacked herself. 

Rhaegar pressed his lips together trying to suppress a smile. “Thank you,” he said his smile slipping through. “I prefer to wear dark colors as well.”

“That came out very wrong,” she said mortified.

Rhaegar laughed, “There’s nothing like being insulted by your betrothed after almost two weeks of not speaking.”

Lyanna couldn’t help but laugh, “I’m so sorry.”

Rhaegar smiled at her again and gently grabbed her hand. “Really, there was no offense taken.”

Lyanna stared at Rhaegar’s hand as another silence fell over them, finding it difficult to lift her eyes to his. 

It wasn’t until Rhaegar squeezed her hand did she look up. “This is not going to be easy. But I promise I’ll do my best to help you and keep you safe.”

Lyanna studied him, his eyes held sincerity and for a moment the She-Wolf believed that everything would be okay, that this situation wasn’t going to be as bad as it seemed. But then a guard came and told them that the King had demanded their presences in the great hall, making reality come crashing down. Her heart sped up again and she felt herself beginning to sweat. 

“Ready?” Rhaegar asked as he held out his palm.

All Lyanna could do was nod and place her hand on top of his offered hand.

They walked from the hallway to the antechamber of the Great Hall where Lyanna could hear the jovial music and people talking. Suddenly, she had shortness of breath and could hear nothing but her heart pounding in her ears. She didn’t hear the chamberlain announce them but the doors opened and a thousand people were staring at her all at once. If it weren’t for Rhaegar holding her up, she would’ve passed out.

“Deep breath,” Rhaegar whispered to her, before escorting them both into the hall. Music was still playing but no one was speaking. It was like she was a new animal, being seen by the masses for the first time.

Lyanna felt herself trembling and her breath coming in short bursts. She could barely make out the dragon skulls on the walls or the dais that the infamous iron throne sat on.     

They stopped in front of the iron throne, where King Aerys was sitting with a sneer on his face. Jon Connington came forward, his Hand of the King pin shining brightly. Opening the scroll that was offered to him, he cleared his throat.

“His majesty Aerys of the House Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, would like to announce that his son Rhaegar of the House Targaryen, First of His Name, and Crown Prince of Dragonstone is to wed the Lady Lyanna of the House Stark in one month’s time.”

 

 

 


	9. Chapter Nine

Life in Kings Landing was lonely, but now that she was officially the betrothed of the beloved Crown Prince life was completely isolating.

Lyanna leaned back against the pillar, watching as the Hayward tended to the hedges in the garden. Ever since the announcement feast two weeks ago, every courtier women, and some men, avoided her. They looked at her as if she was an insect; speaking about her in low voices every time she walked passed them. Despite the nobility in her blood, to them she was an outsider. And as Cersei Lannister so kindly told her _“King’s Landing does not like outsiders.”_

It didn’t help that Rhaegar hardly had time to ask her about her day. Tea time with the Queen and Viserys were nice, but those were few and far between. The only company she had was mostly Jaime and Septa Prea when she was attending her lessons.  

“Come on, Wolf Girl,” Jaime drawled as he leaned against the stone railing that she sat on. “Stop looking like someone kicked you. It’s terribly unattractive.”

Lyanna barely glanced at him. “Stand a yard away from me,” she said not in the mood to be hassled by the Golden Lion. “Like you’re supposed to.”

“Well where is the fun in that?” He asked, giving her a grin. Lyanna just stared at him. “Come on, Lyanna, don’t let those simple-minded harlots make you feel like this.”

“Your sister is one of those simple-minded harlots,” Lyanna pointed out. Cersei Lannister. She was one of, if not the most beautiful woman in court. Much like her twin brother, she had golden blond her and sharp emerald eyes, which often showed her cunning nature. She was slender and walked like she was floating. She made herself very known during the announcement feast and not so subtly told Lyanna that she was scum beneath the pretty Lannister’s shoe.      

Jaime grimaced as he stood, a solemnness coming over him. “Cersei is—‘’the Kingsguard paused. “Father was very hellbent on the arrangement of her to become Prince Rhaegar’s betrothed. Over the years people filled her head with the idea that the arrangement was going to happen. My father had tried for years but in the end the King laughed in my father’s face and declined the betrothal arrangement. I don’t think Cersei ever really accepted the rejection.”

“So your sister is delusional as well as cruel?”

“She is strong-willed and unmoving in her desires,” Jaime corrected and Lyanna couldn’t help but snort. She studied Jaime as he looked out to the gardens.

 Lyanna’s heard the story of the Lannister twins. Jaime holding onto his sister’s foot as he left their mother’s womb, them being inseparable as young children, and even now when they’re separated, Cersei comes to King’s Landing often.

But their inseparable bond was very clear; the She Wolf  knew Jaime would defend his sister until his dying breath.

Lyanna leaned forward, crisscrossing her legs and leaning her elbows on her knees. It was a very unladylike pose and if Old Nan had seen her sitting like this she would’ve been appalled. “What made you join the Kingsguard?”

Jaime looked startled for a second before looking at her, “For the recognition of course!” Lyanna gave him a blank look. “It’s true!”

The She Wolf said nothing. She knew that Cersei forced her brother to become a Kingsguard. Before the King denied the arrangement offer, Cersei thought that if Jaime joined the Kingsguard they would be able to be together again once she became the Crown Princess.  “Do you regret it? Joining the Kingsguard?”

“Do you regret going to Harrenhal?” Jaime countered, crossing his arms.  

Kind of, Lyanna thought. On one hand, if she hadn’t gone to the tourney then she would be in the Stormlands, dealing with Robert’s company. One the other hand, if she hadn’t gone she wouldn’t be here in this madhouse. Betrothed to the Crown Prince and dealing with women that were full of hate and envy. “I am regretful in the fact that now I am forced to be around you.”

Jaime gave her a fake shocked look as he placed his hand over his heart. “Wow! And here I thought we were becoming the best of friends. Lyanna, you just shattered my poor heart.”

Lyanna couldn’t help but laugh. “Then your heart is more fragile than your ego.”

“Two insults in a row! You are so cruel, Lady Stark.”

“You need someone to be mean to you, it’ll help you learn your place,” Lyanna joked as she poked Jaime in his chest making him look down; when he did she flicked his nose.

“You are just as cruel as these women at court,” Jaime said in jest, as he rubbed his nose.

Now it was Lyanna’s turn to mockingly act hurt. “Ser Lannister! You wound me. How will I ever recover from such a slight?”

They laughed together. The easy banter and Jamie’s calm manner made the Wolf Maid feel better. 

The smile dropped from Jaime’s face as he looked at the lion ring on his finger. “I am happy though,” he said quietly. “Being the heir of Casterly Rock is not as glamorous as one would think.”

Lyanna didn’t believe him. She was sure it was unpleasant being Lord Tywin Lanniser’s son and heir, but to completely give up the title of heir of Casterly Rock and all of the privileges that came with it just to be closer to his sister only to have the plan backfire must've been difficult to deal with. Not to mention it was not a secret that the relationship between Jaime and his father had become strained once he took the White Cloak.

Jaime got quite, which was strange seeing as it seemed that he always had something to say, even when no one was talking to him.

Following his line of sight, Lyanna saw what made Jaime forget that they were in the middle of a conversation. Cersei was walking in the gardens with a handful of ladies maids. There was a faint smile on his face as he watched the lioness laugh at something one of the maidens said.

Lyanna studied him. The talk about the Lannister twins made way for the rumors. There is word that the twins of Casterly Rock had done things with each other when they were still young in their childhood, thus forcing them to be separated. Septa Prea, who held no love for the Lanniter’s, was the one who disclosed the rumor to her and watching the way Jaime looked at his sister, the She Wolf could see why people thought that the Lannister twins were more than just siblings. 

Before Cersei could see her sitting there and ruin her mood Lyanna stood, “I’m leaving,” she announced but Jaime heard no word he still staring intently at his sister. Rolling her eyes, she left Jaime there and made her way back to her room. Her mind was so preoccupied by the rumors of Jaime and Cersei that she hadn’t noticed the noise coming from her room.

Opening the door to the sitting room, she heard voices coming from her bedroom. Quietly creeping towards it, she heard Queen Rhaella’s voice. “It is very beautiful.”

Curious to know what was going on, Lyanna opened her bedroom door. Queen Rhaella, Septa Prea and the dressmaker who had been tasked with making Lyanna her new clothes, were standing there admiring the garment that was hanging on the dress form.

“Good evening,” Lyanna said alerting the three women of her presence.

“Lyanna,” The Queen greeted, pulling the She Wolf towards her. “I’m glad you’re here. The dressmaker has finished. Come; take a look at your wedding dress.”

Lyanna felt herself go cold and her focus zero in on the white dress in front of her. Since the announcement feast, Lyanna had tried to not to think about her upcoming wedding. The mere thought of it made her sick with nervousness.

It didn’t help that wedding planning was very overwhelming and she barely had to do anything. When asked what she wanted her wedding dress to look like, she merely said “Whatever is fit for a princess.” When she was asked what her favorite flower was she had dumbly said “All of them.” She had barely contributed at all, yet with each passing day and every wedding related question, Lyanna found herself more and more on edge.

Noticing that the women were waiting for a reaction, Lyanna tried to muster up excitement. “Wow, it’s beautiful! Very beautiful.” It was a beautiful dress, made of white samite with silver thread that made it shine in the sunlight. It had a high neckline and long drop sleeves that belled out at her elbow. Light blue chiffon was stitched to the underside of the sleeves and the train was almost as long as her room. Looking at the design closely, she noticed that the silver thread depicted her house sigil, the Direwolf.

She looked to the dressmaker with a smile, “This is beautiful work. I love it.” 

The dressmaker smiled back and bowed. “Thank you, m’lady. It is an honor to make your wedding dress.”

Lyanna looked as the three women smiled back at her. Little did they know, behind her smile, her heart was pounding.

 

 

Rhaegar took a sip from his goblet, watching from his perch at the window as Lyanna spoke to the Lannister Kingsguard. They were laughing like they were friends and it made uncomfortable feeling well in his chest. 

“I do hate King’s Landing,” his mother said as she sat on the chaise, Viserys’ head resting in her lap as he napped. “Maybe you can convince your father to relocate to Summerhall for the rest of the season. The renovations have been completed for months.”

“The King barely leaves his throne to eat, I doubt he’ll go to Summerhall,” Rhaegar said, still watching Jaime and Lyanna talk.   “Then maybe we can go without him, after the wedding. We can bring Viserys; he is the Prince of Summerhall after all. Plus, it’ll be nice to show him the clear water and expose him to some fresher air.”

“Maybe,” The Prince said. “I’ll talk to the King about it.” He was planning on bringing Lyanna there after the wedding anyway, though having his mother and brother coming with them was not in his original plans. It would be nice to have them there. They would be away from the King’s eye and Lyanna would probably be more comfortable with Viserys and his mother there.

Rhaella hummed as she took a sip from her own goblet. “The wedding preparations are going well; the dressmaker has finished Lyanna’s dress.”   

Rhaegar turned to her and smiled. “That is splendid to hear. I am due for a final fitting at weeks end.”

“And what of the Starks? Will they be here in time?”

Rhaegar nodded, “I believe so. I am lucky in the sense that I was able to inform him with enough time for them to arrive from the North. I know Lyanna was very worried about that.”   

And had Lyanna been very worried. After the announcement feast as Rhaegar walked Lyanna back to her room, the She Wolf voiced her worries that her father and brothers would not be able to make it in time for the wedding due to the time it took to travel from the North to King’s Landing.

But Ser Gerald Hightower had privately informed him once they were alone together after their arrival from Harrenhal that the King had already decided for the wedding to be at the next month’s end, giving Rhaegar plenty of time to inform the Lord of the North of the wedding date.

“I do worry for her,” The Queen said as she sighed. “With that Lannister girl here negatively turning the courtiers opinions of Lady Stark, I fear Lyanna will have no friends besides us and her Septa.”     

Rhaegar was not unaware of the passive confrontation between his betrothed and the Lioness. Though Lyanna said nothing about it to him, it was Ser Barristan that had witnessed it and told him.

Speaking of Cersei, the Prince saw her and some of her maidens walking in the garden, the sunlight highlighting her golden hair.

There was not a doubt in anyone’s mind that she was a beautiful woman, even more beautiful than Princess Elia of Dorne. Before he learned about the prophecy, there was a brief moment where he was blinded by Cersei’s beauty and fancied the idea of a marriage between them.

Upon her arrival back at the beginning of the spring season, they had become friends. It was like everywhere he went she was around. Eventually they began to take walks through the gardens after eating breakfast together or spend the afternoons talking.

However, his time with Cersei caused much strife between him, his mother, and Arthur. Even Varys gave a disapproving look every time he had seen them together. It had taken for Arthur to grab him roughly by the head and say _“Open your eyes, you fool,”_ for Rhaegar to really start to see who Cersei was.

Despite her beautiful looks, her personality spoiled it. She was conniving and ostentatious. She only wanted to walk in the gardens when there others around, no doubt to show off that she had the Prince’s eye.

She treated those she deemed beneath her unkindly and sometimes cursed like a man. During their afternoons together, their conversations were centered on politics and war, court gossip, or her family.

When his eyes were opened to the type of person she really was, he began to despise her. She was just like everyone else despite her numerous attempts to seem different; she used his company to gain recognition and power.

 In the end, the Dragon Prince was very glad the King denied the arrangement.

“I could pay someone to be her friend,” Rhaegar offered, knowing how isolating it must be for Lyanna to have no one. The Crown Prince felt slightly guilty as well, he had been spending very little time with his future bride leaving her in the company of Jaime more often than not.  

“That would be disingenuous, and I think that would do more harm than good.” Rhaella said, gently lifting Viserys’ head so she could stand. “You know what I think it is?”

“That the people here are awful?” Rhaegar offered as his mother came and stood next to him.

“Besides that, I think she’s also apprehensive about you. You two really never got the chance to get to know one another and ever since you’ve gotten back you’ve barely seen each other. I think you should spend some time with her. Get to know her. Show her that she has a friend in you.” 

“I know, I know,” The Crown Prince said, “I had planned on spending more time with her but there is always something that comes up—

Rhaella held up her hand, stopping him in mid-sentence. “You are the Crown Prince and future King, my son. You rule these men, they do not rule you.”

Rhaegar nodded, understanding his mother’s meaning. “I will make plans with her.”

Rhaella looked out of the window and noticed Cersei. “Despite your father’s sickness, he at least was in the right of mind to deny Tywin’s push for a betrothal. Can you imagine her as queen?”

In that moment, one of the maidens stepped on the train of Cersei’s dress, making the golden lioness quickly turn and yell at the unfortunate maiden. Whatever Cersei had said made the maiden cry as the lioness huffed and stormed away.

“No mother,” Rhaegar replied, watching the poor maiden cry. He still felt foolish at how easily Cersei had him in the palm of her hand “I cannot.”

 

 

Lyanna rolled onto her back, spreading her arms and watching as the moonlight streamed through the leaves and played with the designs of her canopy. Sleep would not come to her. Her heart was racing miles a minute.

Sitting up, she tried not to look at the dress in the corner. Standing, she walked over to the once barred window and looked out it. It was quiet in the Red Keep; it had been some time since the sun had set. Looking around, she nodded her head once and turned to her wardrobe. Putting on a tunic and breeches that she had stolen from Ned some time ago, she put on her riding boots and put her hair in a simple plait.

On orders of the King, none of the royal family was allowed to roam around the palace at night time, in fear that one of their many enemies had successfully snuck in to kill them. Unfortunately, that included her as well.

Putting on her cloak, she strode over to her window and began to climb out. Climbing onto the roof, she pulled the cloak over her head and followed the shadows.

The first time she had done this, one of the slates had broken causing her to slip and almost sprain her ankle. The second time she had done this; a dog was loose from the kennels and spotted her, its barking almost alerting the guards of her nightly escape.

All she had wanted to do as go to the Godswood alone. It was hard to pray when someone was there watching you.

She listened for the patrols before dropping down to the ground and following the shadow along the royal sept.

From the sept she breezed by the library and made a run for it into the Godswood.

Once she was a safe distance into the woods she removed her hood. Taking a deep breath, Lyanna smiled. This Godswood smelled like the ones at home, the only difference is when she in haled, cool crisp air didn’t fill her lungs; instead it was humidity.

Walking to the middle of the forest, she followed the moonlit path to the a oak tree with a face carved in it. It wasn't a real hearttree, for almost all of the hearttrees in the South had been destroyed, but it still brought her a sort of comfort. She sat with her back against the trunk. Closing her eyes, she let the sounds of the forest calm her mind.

“Gods of the Forest please hear me,” Lyanna whispered. “Please protect my father and brothers, they are traveling far and the roads are dangerous.” She imagined her father and brothers friendly smiles as they arrived to King’s Landing.

Another image came to her; it was of the Queen during their afternoon tea. How she vainly tried to cover the purple bruises on her arms, but they were hard to hide due to the paleness of her skin. “Please help the Queen, for I know she suffers greatly at the hand of the King.”

She thought of Viserys, and the concern he had for his mother when he asked how she received those hateful marks. “Please continue protect Viserys, he is young and naïve and does not know his father’s true nature and that of the world to which he was born into.”

She thought of Rhaegar, and the tiredness under his eyes this morning during breakfast as Jon Connington went over the daily plans. “Please help Rhaegar, he is still young but already has the burden of the world on his shoulders.”

Lyanna squeezed her eyes closed, feeling all of her apprehension and fear she had been suppressing rise to the surface as she spoke to the Heart Tree. “Please help me gather the courage, for in a fortnight I am to become Crown Princess of the Seven Kingdoms and I am more afraid than ever.” She paused, as tears welled in her eyes.

“Please give me courage,” she sobbed. “I am afraid of the King because his madness is unpredictable, I am afraid of Rhaegar because I do not know who he really is and if he is like his father, I am afraid of the people of this strange court who are cruel. My only companions are my Septa and a Lannister, who would no sooner sell me out for his sister’s advantage than proclaim us friends.”

She sniffled as she wiped her eyes. “I know direwolves are never afraid, but I am. I am so afraid that I am surprised my heart as not stopped from all of turmoil. Please help me.”

She had never felt so lost. It had only been two months and she already felt defeated. The warm wind blew softly, as if trying to soothe her worries and after a few moments her tears had stopped.   

Lyanna laughed at herself, she felt ridiculous. Her father taught her to never let fear defeat her and here she was, weeping like a child in the Godswood. Taking a deep breath, she kissed her fingers and placed them on the face of the Heart Tree. “Thank you.”

Standing, she put her hood back on and walked back towards the baily. Just before the opening of the woods, she heard strange sounds, like someone was breathing heavily and groaning in pain.

Following the sounds she saw golden blond hair illuminated by the moonlight. Silently moving forward, she realized that it was Cersei Lannister, who was groaning and it was not because she was in pain. The Golden Lioness was on all fours with her dress skirts gathered at her hips.

Behind her was Jaime, who was thrusting into her harshly, it was him who was breathing heavy.

Lyanna gasped, making the siblings stop and look in her direction. They quickly pulled part, Jaime pulling his breeches back up and Cersei putting her skirts down. “Whose there?” Jaime called as he drew his sword and walked towards her. 

Quickly backing away she turned and ran, hoping that the shadows had masked her face. As she ran all she could think of was Jaime and Cersei. How the rumors of them were true. She felt sick to her stomach.

She looked behind her to make sure she was not being followed. When she turned around she bumped into a hard chest. Before she could stumble back someone grabbed her arms. “Lady Lyanna,” she heard, recognizing the voice as Ser Arthur’s. “Are you alright?”

“Ser Arthur!” Lyanna said as she tried to catch her breath, grabbing onto his arms to steady herself, her breathing still heavy. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Even in the moonlight I can tell you look unwell,” the Kingsguard said as he brought Lyanna out of the dark Godswood and into the illuminated baily.

“Yes, I— ” she took a deep breath, remembering the look on Jaime’s face as he pleasured himself with his _sister_. “I-I thought I saw something.”

“What was it?” Arthur asked as he looked over her head into the forest, waiting to see if whatever had frightened her had followed her out. “Did one of the dogs escape from the kennels again?”

“It—”she paused; though she did not care what would happen to Cersei, she was concerned for Jaime and his safety. She knew no one could ever know what she just witnessed, not even the honorable Arthur Dayne. “I am unfamiliar with these woods so my mind was probably playing tricks on me. It was a deer, I’m sure of it.”

Arthur squeezed her arms gently in reassurance. “How did you get out here without alerting the guards in the first place?”

Lyanna grimaced, “I snuck out of my window,” when Arthur lifted his eyes in surprise she rushed to clarify, “I use to do it all the time when I was home. The walls here are different compared to Winterfell’s, but they are still easy to climb.”

“It is dangerous to be out here alone,” Arthur said as he held his arm out to her in a silent offer to escort her back to her room.

“Even with all of the guards?” Lyanna asked, taking his arm and looking at the numerous guards that littered the keep.

“Guards are not always who they seem to be. They all come from different families with their own motives. You never know who is on your side and who is not.”

“That is awful,” Lyanna said. “Are these guards not screened before they are allowed to join?”

“Most get these jobs because of debts owed to their families, or their parents know someone.”

“This place is very confusing. It houses the royal family yet they are constantly under threats in their own home. In Winterfell, in order to serve as the Lord of the North’s guardsmen you must go through physical training as well as be evaluated by the Maester’s. Anyone who is deemed unfit does not get the position, regardless if their parents know someone or their family is owed a debt.”

Arthur laughed as they stopped in front of the sitting room door; Lyanna noticed that there were extra guards there. “Unfortunately, you never really come to understand King’s Landing, and once you think you understand everything changes again.” He opened the door for her and bowed. “Prince Rhaegar is waiting for you.”

Lyanna felt her eyes widen, she hadn’t seen him in two weeks what could he possibly want this late at night? “Rhaegar is waiting for me?” Arthur just nodded.

She bowed her head to the Kingsguard. “Good night Ser Dayne, thank you for escorting me safely to my room,” she said but before walking in Arthur stopped her.

“Oh and Lady Stark,” Lyanna looked at him, “There are no deer in these Godswood,” he said, giving her a knowing look. “Have a good night.” He closed the door quietly.

Lyanna took a few moments to wonder if the Dornish Kingsguard knew more than he was letting on. Before she could ponder more on it she remembered that Rhaegar was here waiting for her.   

Going into the sitting room, she saw that there was a fire in the hearth, making the room glow in a warm orange. Sitting in one of the chairs was Rhaegar, reading a book. “Do you make it habit to sneak out after nightfall?” He asked as he turned a page, his cool tone implying that he did not appreciate her escape act.

“Your highness,” Lyanna bowed before she walked forward. Rhaegar motioned for her to sit in the chair opposite of him.

“If you had wanted to go to the Godswood you could’ve told me, I would’ve arranged for one of the Kingsguard to go with you, instead of you having to sneak out like a thief.”

“It is considered rude in my religion to have someone hover over another while they are in prayer,” she replied haughtily, not appreciating Rhaegar’s accusing tone. “Besides, if I had seen you for more than two seconds maybe I would have asked.”

Rhaegar smiled, his disposition changing immediately. “I guess I deserved that,” he said with a small laugh, playing with the book in his hands. “I apologize for not being around as often as I should be.”

“Well you should be,” Lyanna huffed, confused and weary on how his moods could change so quickly. “I’ve never met a man who so thoroughly ignored his betrothed, as you do. I’m sure even the Crown Prince of the Realm could take a moment to spend some time with his betrothed.” 

The Dragon Prince laughed again, a full laugh, which took the Wolf Maid off guard. “You are something Lady Stark.” When Rhaegar noticed that Lyanna did not look as amused as he did, he cleared his throat, the smile never leaving his face. “I thought that maybe we can start to get to know each other.”

“And you felt the need to do that now?” Lyanna asked as she looked out of the window at the dark sky.

“No,” he said with another laugh as he fiddled with the book, “No. We are to be married in a fortnight and I don’t want to go into this marriage as strangers.”

“Neither do I,” Lyanna admitted honestly. It would be best if they were at least closer than they were not. The Wolf Maid had accepted that she will be with the Crown Prince until death or he discarded her for another, which was another sad thought that she tried not to think about.

“Would you, perhaps, like to spend the day with me tomorrow?” Rhaegar asked almost hesitantly, as if he was unsure if she was going to say yes.

The firelight lightened the Dragon Prince’s dark violet eyes, and Lyanna felt herself blush under his gaze. Her first instinct was to say no, in Winterfell she, along with her father and Brandon, had constantly turned down offers of courtship. 

But Rhaegar was different from the men at home. He wasn’t looking for her father’s favor nor to claim the title of being the one to tame the She Wolf of Winterfell. He was asking just out pure curiosity to get to know her. That and they were going to be married, it’s best to know your partner than to not.  “I—Yes, yes I would.”

The Dragon Prince smiled wide at her as he stood and she couldn’t help but smile back. “Good, I’ll come to get you in the morning.”

Lyanna followed him to the door. “Have a good night, Your Highness.”

Rhaegar kissed her hand. “Have a good night, Lyanna.”

The She Wolf gave him one more smile before closing the door.


	10. Chapter Ten

Lyanna looked at herself in the mirror, smoothing out her new favorite organdy yellow dress. It was in the Dornish style with short ruffled sleeves that sat on the tips of her shoulders and the neckline dipped low into a v. Her hair was plaited halfway as the rest lay over her shoulders. She wasn’t sure what she and Rhaegar were going to do today, but she wanted to look nice anyway.

“You look lovely, my Lady,” the Queen’s ladies maid Nera said. Nera was kind, if a bit slow. She spoke almost like a whisper making Lyanna always lean in when she’s talking. “His Royal Highness is going to fall in love by just looking at you, if he hasn’t already.”

Lyanna bit her lip as she tried to smother a smile. “Thank you.”  There was a knock on her door and Nera excused herself to go and answer it.

The women in this court were more beautiful than her, more intelligent with court intrigue and politics of King’s Landing. Sure her brothers taught her how to swing a sword and her father let her sit in on some council meetings to give her the knowledge of politics, but Winterfell was different than King’s Landing and she felt like she was in the dark.

Lyanna continued to look at herself. If she was being honest, she was eager to spend time with Rhaegar. She wanted to get to know him, wanted to become comfortable around him so she didn’t act like a spooked horse every time he was around. They were going to be married for goodness sake; she had to get over her apprehensiveness eventually.

Deep down though, she wanted to spend time with Rhaegar to show him that she was just as intriguing as these women at court. She wanted him to find her even more beautiful than Cersei Lannister.  

“Lady Lyanna,” Nera called at the door, “Ser Dayne is here to see you.”

The She Wolf’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she walked over to the door. Ser Arthur was standing there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Ser Arthur?” Seeing the guilty look on the Kingsguard’s face made Lyanna’s heart drop in disappointment.

“Lady Lyanna,” Arthur greeted. They stared at each other for a moment before the White Cloak handed her the flowers.

Lyanna hesitantly took them, knowing what Arthur was going to say but still hoping that he wouldn’t. “What are these for?”

Arthur grimaced, “I regret to inform you that there are sudden important matters that need Rhaegar’s attention and he has been called away for the day. He wanted me to give these to you as an apology.”

Lyanna scoffed, anger filling her. “Of course he was. These matters were so important that he couldn’t even come here to tell me himself?”

“He left early this morning, before the sun rose. He did not want to wake you,” Arthur said. Like Jaime would defend his sister with his dying breath, Arthur would defend Rhaegar with everything he had. 

The She Wolf scoffed again, throwing the flowers on the table “How considerate.” She said suddenly feeling stupid in this too revealing dress and the uncomfortable silk heeled slippers that Nera coaxed her into wearing.

Looking back at Arthur, she gave him a look over, coming to realize that he was here and not by Rhaegar’s side like normal.

“What are you doing here anyway? Is Jaime not my assigned Kingsguard?”

“He is,” Arthur agreed, “though Rhaegar requested that Jaime go with him, thus leaving me to fill in for him.”

Lyanna just nodded. Briefly remembering the act she caught Jaime in last night and instantly feeling sick. She still didn’t know how she was going to be able to look the Golden Lion in the face again. She pushed the images away from her mind as she thought of what she was going to do today, her anger welled again.

She did not want to go to lessons, nor did she want to sit in the Queen’s ballroom with the other women of court being not so silently judged. Looking out of the window she felt the warm breeze and the sun shining down into the baily below, it was a beautiful day, too beautiful to stay inside. Turning to Arthur she smiled, “Do you like to ride, Ser Arthur?”

 

The wind felt great against her face, she laughed in bliss as she urged Snow to go faster, Ser Arthur keeping up good pace behind her.

They had ridden to the forests outside of King’s Landing. It took a lot of pleading on Lyanna’s part to leave the Red Keep.  But eventually, Arthur gave in _“But only a few leagues from the gate,”_ he said and Lyanna rushed to change into her riding clothes. They snuck through the Iron Gate and rode deep into the Kingswood.

They entered a clearing just as the sun came out from behind the scattered clouds. Lyanna slowed her horse and turned to Arthur, who had changed out of his armor and white cloak to not bring attention to them, although Dawn was ever at his side.

Lyanna jumped from her horse and led her to the small pond, Arthur following behind her. “I believe we are more than a few leagues away the Keep,” he said to her giving her a knowing look.

The Wolf Maid gave him an innocent smile, “I was waiting for you to tell me to stop.”

“I did,” Arthur replied as he smiled back at her, “three times, in fact.”

Lyanna laughed, shrugging her shoulders, “I guess the wind drowned you out.”

“Sure it did,” his eyes giving his humor away. “There is no telling you what to do, is there?”

“Admit it, you wanted to get out of the Keep just as much as I did,” Lyanna said as she as tied Snow to the tree nearest the pond and took a loaf of bread out of her saddlebag. “No one wants to stay inside all of the time.”

“I will admit that it is nice to get out,” Arthur confessed as he followed suit, tying his own destrier to the tree and sat down, Lyanna following him. “Rhaegar rarely has free time, these days. With the King becoming increasing ill, more and more duties are passed onto him.”

Lyanna sighed as she took a sip from her waterskin. “I guess I should get used to this then,” she said as she offered Arthur the water.

“Get used to what?” He asked before taking a sip of the water.

“Disappointment.”

“Lady Lyanna—

“Lyanna,” she interjected.

Arthur sighed, “Lyanna, Rhaegar did not want to cancel on you today; Jon had to almost get on his knees and beg him to go. His full intention was to spend the day with you. But he is the Crown Prince and has obligations that come before anything.”

“I know, I know,” Lyanna said pushing stray hair out of her face. “My father used to tell Bran that the North came first, everything else came second.” She thought Brandon and how he used to roll his eyes every time father had told him that.

“That explains why the North is the most prosperous of the Seven Kingdom’s. I think the other’s Lords have forgotten that they are here to serve the realm in the name of their people. Greed and power have corrupted the lot of them.”

Arthur was nice company. He didn’t constantly talk like Jaime did though they had the same easy manner. He had a sharp intellect that made it fun to talk to him. The sunlight made his pale blond hair look like a halo. The only similarity he shared with his sister Ashara was the same violet colored eyes and studying his silhouette a little more maybe the same nose.

Lyanna split the bread between the two of them, “I think some of the Lords of the high houses have become lacks because they know nothing except death will uproot them from their House seat. If they were held accountable for how their lands are doing, like they’re supposed to be, then you would see how fast Robert Baratheon would take a break from hunting for pleasure and instead help hunt to feed his own people.”

“Things will change,” Arthur said, “once Rhaegar takes the throne.”

“That could be years from now,” Lyanna said, holding her arm out for Snow, who didn’t hesitate to finish the piece of bread. She felt dread at the thought that the Mad King would be on the throne for many more years and all of the horrors that he would commit and all of the people that would suffer because of it.

“No,” The Kingsguard said, “things are changing.”   

“But how do you—                                                                

“Lyanna,” Arthur cut her off and looked her directly in the eye, “believe me, things are changing. You will see soon enough.” 

 

Rhaegar read over the document, the words starting to blend together. The King had been on a tirade since early morning. According to the guards he had woken up before the sun rose, ranting and screaming and destroying everything in his path.

The Prince was going to let his father be, telling Jon to just give him time and he would eventually calm down.  But Jon pleaded with him, _“He said he is going to blow up the Great Sept, he has a Pyromancer already on his way there.”_

Instructing Arthur to go to Lyanna and Oswell Whent, Lewyn Martell and Jonothor Darry to his mother and brother, Rhaegar and Jamie Lannister quickly rode to the Great Sept, arriving right as the Pyromancer was walking up the stone steps, the poor man in tears as he prayed to the gods for something or someone to stop him.

 When he returned to the castle he stormed into the empty grand hall, where the King was sitting on the Iron Throne surrounded by Varys, Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Barristan Selmy, and Jon, all of them trying to soothe the King’s anger. _“BURN THEM ALL!”_ Aerys screamed his voice hoarse.

_“Your Majesty!”_ Rhaegar called as he and Jaime approached him _. “What is the meaning of this!?”_  

_“They’re traitors, every last one of them! They’re bought off by those Lannister dogs!”_ Rhaegar pushed Jaime behind him, hoping the shadows of early dawn would cover him before the King could spot him. _“Burn them!”_ Aerys continued. _“BURN THEM ALL!”_

The Dragon Prince rubbed his eyes, exhaustion coming over him. He heard a gentle knock on his door and Arthur came in. “How did it go today?”

Rhaegar sighed, rubbing his eyes a little harder. “Besides the fact that the King almost blew up the Great Sept of Baelor with wildfire and killing thousands of innocent people while he sat on the throne screaming ‘Burn them all,’ it was great.”

Arthur sat in the seat opposite him, he himself looked tired. “How was Lyanna?”  The Sword of the Morning rubbed the back of his neck, color from the sun stained his face. “She kept you out in the sun?”

Arthur laughed, “We did not return to the Keep until the sun set and even then it was hard to get her off the horse. She did express her disappointment about your cancellation, but she understood in the end.”

He nodded deciding to make up for it tomorrow. He desperately wanted to spend the day with her, but it was a matter of life and death and he could not ignore the situation for a day of frivolity. “I will make it up to her.”

There was another knock on the door as the guard announced that it was the Hand of the King and Varys. It was the first time that Rhaegar had seen the Spymaster looks so exhausted, the day’s events took a toll on everyone involved.

“Is the King settled?” Rhaegar asked, skipping a greeting.  

“He became calm enough for Maester Pycelle to give him a sleeping draught,” Varys said. “But I fear a similar episode will happen sooner rather than later.”

“Agreed,” Jon said, “We should call for the great houses again and get the plan into motion. The sooner the better.”

“How are we going to get the great houses here without the King becoming suspicious?” Rhaegar asked. “We cannot invite them to the wedding, it is not custom.”

“Jon can suggest a tourney, in honor of yours and Lyanna’s union,” Arthur offered, the face that Jon made did not go unnoticed by the Dornish knight.

“Even then, how do we know that the High Houses will agree? They barley agreed at Harrenhal,” Rhaegar threw his quill down and leaned back against his chair. Harrenhal did not go as he planned; the only houses that agreed were those in the North and Dorne.

The others hesitated to say anything while some didn’t say anything at all. But why would they? They didn’t see the King’s madness daily. It didn’t affect their lives like it did to those who lived in the Red Keep or King’s Landing.    

“Do you want to know why I gave your father that report when we were in Harrenhal?” Varys asked. Rhaegar just lifted his eyes brows in mild curiosity. “Because I knew that you would never ask Lady Lyanna. And if you didn’t then there had to be a backup plan.

“If the King believed in the story that the North was gaining an army for a war, then he would force you to marry the Lord of the North’s daughter. The Starks are respected throughout the realm. Their judgement is trusted and has been for centuries.

“Only few houses distrust them and they are the ones who are aiming for a war against you and your family. With the North on your side the other houses will follow. There should be no problem with dethroning your father.” 

“What is your aim, Spymaster?” Rhaegar his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You serve the King yet subtly aide in his dethroning. What are you playing at?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Your Highness,” Varys said calmly, “I simply want the best for the people.”

“You mean you want the best for you,” The Dragon Prince replied, not trusting the words coming from the eunuch.

“What’s best for the people is also what’s best for me. You often forget, Your Highness, that every decision you, the council, and even the King makes trickles down to all of us. If I may peak so freely it is no secret that your father is quickly declining and his display today confirms that he is farther in madness than we thought.

“My goal, Your Highness, is to seat a ruler on the throne that will help the people instead of hinder them. Instill faith rather than fear.”  

“And you think that it is me? I am a Targaryen, I can be just as mad as the King,” Rhaegar snapped, feeling the need to fidget as he became angrier. That was his biggest fear. His father was sane once upon a time, he was just and fair. And now look at him, threatening to blow up his own city.

“You’ve heard the saying,” he continued his voice displaying his irritation, “every time a Targaryen is born the gods toss a coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.”

“I do not think your coin has landed yet, Your Highness, and even so your mother is a Targaryen as well yet no madness seems to befall her. If your so called coin were to land on the madness side wouldn’t it be best to put you on the throne while you are still young in adulthood? There can be many years of good fortune and prosperity before the madness settled in, if it does at all.”      

Rhaegar looked to Arthur, who held his stare, his violet eyes reading his own, “We understand that you are afraid, Rhaegar,” Arthur said softly. “We all are. There is no guarantee that the war will result in the way we planned or that you won’t descend into madness.

“But Varys is right, you are still young and in good health. It would be smart to put you on the throne if madness is indeed in your future. The North is respected throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Lord Rickard is due to be here in two days. Speak with him; ask him to rally the houses for you. They will follow him.”

If he hadn’t sworn himself to the sword and Jon wasn’t a good friend, Rhaegar would’ve made Arthur his Hand of the King once he ascended the throne. The plan for the overthrow had to start now, before the King really did manage to burn down King’s Landing.

He nodded once, “Call for a tourney.”

 

Lyanna tried to focus on the book in her lap but all she could think about was Jaime and Cersei, who she caught _again_. This time they were in the library, late at night when they thought that everyone had gone to bed.

The She Wolf walked right in on them. Luckily their backs were turned to her, but it was them no doubt. She had immediately ran out and back to her rooms, startling the poor guard in front of her door when she slammed it.

She had given it thought, what business of it was hers? Even though Lyanna didn’t understand how someone could feel that way towards their own sibling, she still had no right to questions anyone’s preferences or pass times, though Jaime should be ashamed for breaking his vow of as Kingsguard.

When she saw Jaime this morning she wanted to bring it up to him, tell him to be more careful of where they perform these acts, anyone could’ve walked in on them.

But she was afraid. It was sad to say that Jaime was her only friend and if he knew that she had found out about him and his sister, he would either call for a reassignment or kill her.

But she had to bring it up to him. She couldn’t bear the thought of it anymore. Standing, she placed her book on the small table and marched to the door. Wrenching it open, she startled Jaime.

“Jaime,” she said as she closed the door and stood in front of him. Before he could greet her back she cut him off, “Take a walk with me.”

Jaime gave her a look, “Do we have to?” He moaned.

Lyanna rolled her eyes but said nothing, instead she led them outside, past the baily, the royal sept, the library, and into the godswood. No one ever went in there, so she didn’t have to worry about eavesdroppers.

As they walked deeper into the forest, she tried to think of ways to start the conversation. Once they were a safe distance away from the opening she stopped and turned to him. He just looked at her in a bored manner. “What are we—

“I know about you and Cersei!”

There was a momentary pause as Jaime stared at her, “Come again?” he asked, cocking his head to the side and leaning his ear towards her, as if he didn’t hear what she just said.

“I know about you…and Cersei.”

The Kingsguard eyes got wide as he sucked in a shocked breath, “How?” He asked before he lunged toward her and grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her hard against a tree “HOW DID YOU FIND OUT!?”

Lyanna used all of her strength and pushed him away. “Do not ever put your hands on me like that again!” She pushed Jaime again. “And you two weren’t exactly keeping it down, I’m surprised others didn’t hear you!”

“FUCK!” Jaime said as he ran his hand through his hair and turned is back to her. Several long moments passed before he turned back to her, one hand on his hip and the other resting on the hilt on his sword.

His demeanor screamed nonchalance but his eyes gave away his fear. “So what are you going to do now? Run and tell Rhaegar?” He asked condescendingly, but Lyanna knew that his tone was just to mask his fear too. “Get me removed from the Kingsguard and shame the Lannisters?”

Lyanna just shook her head, unsure of what to say, never planning the conversation this far ahead. Like Brandon, she too suffered from speaking before she could fully think it through.   

“Are you going to say anything?”

“I was very wrong about your character, that’s for sure,” Lyanna finally said after a few more moments of silence.

Jaime still looked at her like she was going to scream his and Cersei’s secret at the top of her lungs for all to hear. Despite looking at her, his eyes never met hers.

“Jaime,” she said softly, “look at me.”

Jaime’s eyes slowly moved to hers and she gave him a small smile. “My betrothed is a child of incest. His whole family is. And I’m sure that if the Queen had given birth to a girl, she would’ve been married to Rhaeger. If you want to lay with your sister than who am I to pass judgement?” 

“Do you find me disgusting?” Jaime asked quietly, as if he was afraid of her answer.

“No Jaime, I don’t,” she said in a voice that she usually used to calm Snow. “While I find committing the act with your _sister_ disgusting, I don’t think _you_ are disgusting.”

“Where do we go from here?” Jaime asked still unsure.

Lyanna gave him a small smile as she walked towards him, “We go to the kitchens,” she said as she looped her arm through his, “because I missed breakfast.”

Jaime smiled at her, his body relaxing in relief.  “Maybe if you weren’t so lazy and actually got up like everyone else you wouldn’t always miss breakfast.”

Lyanna laughed in disbelief, “Excuse you, I was caught up reading. You know, some of us go to the library for pleasure.”

“I do too,” Jaime said giving her a grin. The She Wolf turned to him and punched his arm, her fist clanging against his armor, making the Golden Lion laugh.

“Oh, one more thing,” Lyanna said as turned in Jaime and smacked him hard across the face.

Jaime looked stunned for a moment before he blinked and rubbed his check. “Ow! Whatever was that for?”

Lyanna pointed a finger in his face, “Do not ever defile the godswood like that again! This is a holy ground to my people and if I catch you again I’ll cut your prick off.”

She slapped him again, this time on the other check. “And that is for pushing me against a tree!”

“Ow! Okay I’m sorry. Is there anything else you want to get off your measly chest?”

Lyanna’s mouth dropped open as Jaime laughed at her. She pushed him roughly before storming off. “You’ve got quite a hand, Wolf Girl, are you sure you aren’t just a tiny man in a dress?”

“Stop talking to me!” Lyanna snapped, as she stormed out of the godswood and towards the kitchens.  

“That would be kind of difficult, seeing as we spend most of the day together,” Jaime said as he languidly followed her. It wasn’t hard for him to keep up with her.

“Ugh!” The She Wolf said, still stomping her way to the kitchens and then to her room, Jaime’s teasing banter and laugh irritating her for the entire walk.

“Why don’t you just drop dead?” She huffed as she pushed open the door to the sitting room.

She gave a startled gasp when she saw someone sitting by the fireplace reading a book. It took a moment to recognize the silver blond hair and the dark violet eyes as they snapped from the book to look at her in alarm. “Your Highness,” she said as she bowed quickly.

“You know, you are terribly rude for a soon to be princess,” Jaime said as he walked in, only to bump into her. Noticing Rhaegar he bowed immediately, “Your Highness.”

Rhaegar looked at them with amused eyes, “Everything alright?”

“Everything is fine,” Lyanna said with a smile as pushed Jaime out of the door way. “Ser Jaime was just going to stand guard outside, like he’s _supposed_ to.” She knew he hated standing guard outside the door. There was no one for him to talk to.

Jaime bowed to Rhaegar again before giving Lyanna a look and walking out of the door. She gave him a smug smile as she closed the door. 

Turning back to Rhaegar, she saw the amusement in his eyes. “Sometimes it is very exhausting to be around him.”

The Dragon Prince smiled at her, “I could only imagine.”

They stared at each other, Lyanna not sure what to say. In the back of her mind though she was very grateful that Nera had put the flowers in a vase and sat them on the mantle.

“I admire your choice of reading,” Rhaegar finally said as he held up the book of philosophy that he was holding, “Though I find Maester Johan’s writing dry and boring.”

Lyanna felt offended, “Maester Johan’s writing is poetic and eye opening. He provokes you to think about things from a different perspective, to not view the world from such a mundane point of view. Being the future King wouldn’t you want books that expand your way of viewing things?”

The Dragon Prince laughed. “I stand corrected.” He placed a stray hair behind her ear, his hand idling before slowly moving across her check. “I am sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s alright, I understand,” Lyanna said, feeling the warmth of his hand.

“I would like to make it up to you,” Rhaegar said, finally pulling his hand away. “There is a vault below the Great Sept. Septon’s horde religious artifacts and books that were sent by the Grand Maesters in Oldtown. Would you like to see them?”

Lyanna gave him a smile, “I would love to.” Her heart started to beat fast at the thought of spending time with Rhaegar. “When?”

“Right now,” Rhaegar said, another smile gracing his face.

Lyanna looked down her plain green dress. There were mud stains on the skirt hem and her hair was untamed. She wore her riding boots instead of the heeled slippers.“Right now?” she asked and Rhaegar nodded. “But I look—

“Beautiful.” Lyanna blushed. “You look beautiful. Say you’ll spend the day with me,” he said as he held out his hand to her.

The She Wolf bit her lip as she looked back at him. She gave him a smile and placed her hand in his.  

 

They had ridden to the Great Sept secretly, only bringing Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan for protection. They rode through the city with Rhaegar under a cloak to disguise his signature silver hair.

They rode slowly, Rhaegar telling her the history of King’s Landing and how the Targaryen’s conquered the Seven Kingdoms on the backs of their dragons. Lyanna already knew all of this, Septa Prea making Targaryen history a top priority in their lessons, but it was nice listening to Rhaegar talk.

They spoke about their families and favorite memories. His being when he held Viserys for the first time and the nights where he spent at the ruins of Summerhall, staring at the stars. Lyanna stated that hers were when Bran first taught her and Benjen how to fight with a sword and her mother brushing her hair before bed a week before she died. 

When they arrived at the Great Sept, a Septon had come out to greet them, bowing low to them as he ushered them inside as the stable boy handle their horses.

“Wow,” Lyanna said as she turned in a circle, taking in all of the Sept. From the giant statues of the seven gods, the alters dedicated to each god, and globes hanging from the ceiling, to the colored glass around the dome. It was very pretty.

The Speton guided them to a dark stairwell that led them to two thick oak double doors. Pushing them open, it revealed a large library. Arthur and Barristan stood by the doors as Rhaeger and Lyanna went deeper into the library.

“This place is so beautiful!” Lyanna said as she took the sight in. To her, this was more beautiful than the actual Sept. The room was just as big as the sept above, with large shelves full of books and Septons quietly moving around the room. Some were sitting by large candles reading while others were coping books. “It makes me want to cry.”

“I felt the same way when I first found about this place,” Rhaegar said as he watched Lyanna pick up a book and flip the pages. “I have never met a lady who loved to read like you do. Does your father enjoy reading?”

“My mother did, actually,” Lyanna said as she ran her fingers lightly over the dusty books on the shelf they were slowly walking past. “She was addicted to the written word. I remember her once telling my father that if men took to the book more than the sword there would be less war and more advancement. Unfortunately many do not adhere to that.”

“I do,” Rhaegar said absently as he looked over a book on a pedestal that was perched on a table. Lyanna looked at him and briefly saw the melancholy that was so often associated with the Dragon Prince. His face was solemn as he read the book and though his hands were clasped behind his back in confidence, his shoulders were slightly hunched in, as if subconsciously he was trying to make himself small and unnoticeable.   

“I know,” Lyanna said as she stood across the table from him. Rhaegar looked at her with surprise. “At Harrenhal, you told me that you prefer reading to anything else, even though that’s not really a secret.”

Rhaegar gave her another smile, “You remember that?” They slowly walked forwards and down the stone steps into the center of the library.

“Of course,” Lyanna said, “when the Crown Prince of the realm talks, you usually listen.”

“What about when your betrothed talks?” The Dragon Prince teasingly asked “Or Husband?”

Lyanna playfully placed a finger on her chin as if in thought, “Hmm, that depends on the conversation, I guess.”

They laughed together before they fell into a comfortable silence.They stared at one another, each not willing to break this somewhat odd silence they were in.

Just then Lyanna’s stomach made a noise, making the Dragon Prince laugh as Lyanna blushed furiously. “I apologize, here I am asking you to spend the day with me and I didn’t even bring any food to eat.”

Rhaegar thanked the Septon’s that had allowed them into their underground sanctuary before leading Lyanna out of the Sept.

They climbed onto their horses and Rhaegar turned to her with a smile. “I know you are hungry, but there is a pub in Cobbler’s Square that sells excellent kidney pie. Would you like to go there?”

“Yes!” Lyanna said almost a bit too enthusiastic. She had never been to a pub, every time Brandon and even Benjen had gone, they forbad her to go with them. She had always wanted to go one.

Night had fallen by the time they had arrived at the pub and even from the outside Lyanna could hear the rowdiness of the pub patrons. They sat in the corner by a window, the two Kingsguard sitting at the table next to them.  

Rhaegar removed his hood and Lyanna looked him in alarm. “What are you doing?” Arthur and Barristan did not blink an eye.

The Dragon Prince laughed, “Everyone here is drunk, they will not notice who I am.”

He was right; no one blinked an eye at his silver hair. In fact, they struck up conversations with him and challenged him to arm wrestling duels. The Prince politely declined but bought the challengers ale, which resulted in cheers and back slaps.

Lyanna couldn’t help but smile, seeing Rhaegar here proved that he really was the people’s prince. He got along with anyone who spoke to him.

They spoke lowly over their kidney pies and ale, the ale loosening her tongue. “What is your biggest fear in the world?” She asked as she sipped her ale.

The solemnness came over Rhaegar’s face again as he leaned back against the chair, staring straight ahead. “I am terrified that I will become as insane as my father.”

Lyanna paused in taking a sip, looking at him with eyebrows scrunched in curiosity. “You are nothing like the King.”

“Not yet,” Rhaegar said, still staring at the far wall. “I am a Targaryen, I am associated with madness. There is even a bet through the Seven Kingdoms on how long it will take me to become as insane as the King.”

Lyanna felt sympathy for him. To have people be so cruel as to already making bets on Rhaegar’s sanity, judging him just because of his house name.

She placed her hand over his, squeezing it gently. “You may be a Targaryen, but that does not define who _you_ are.” She gestured around him, “The smallfolk, for example, are rarely seen as anything else. They are defined by their status just as you are defined by your name, yet that is not who they are.

“They are painters, and fishmongers, fathers and mother. They are more than their status. You were born a Targaryen, but you are more than just a Targaryen. You are a musician, and a knight, and a good man.

“You were born into this family for a reason, and because of that there are obligations you have to follow. Think of all the good you can do, are doing, for the people. Think of everything you can do for the world.”  

 Rhaegar looked at her with awe and realization fell upon the Wolf Maid, making her blush a deep red. “I am sorry,” she said, “my mouth got carried away.”

“Don’t be sorry at all,” the Dragon Prince said a small smile on his face. “It is your mouth that soothes my worry.” Lyanna smiled and squeezed his hand again.

 

It was the hour of ghosts when they arrived back at the Keep, not even the stable boys were awake. They unsaddled and put their horses in the stables before dismissing Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan.

Lyanna and Rhaegar walked slowly towards the Maidenvault, their heads tilted towards the sky as they pointed out the constellations that they knew.

“I had a wonderful day,” Lyanna said as they approached the entrance to the Maidenvault. Exhaustion hovered over her, but a part of her did not want this to end.  

Rhaegar took her hand, “So did I,” he said as they stopped right before the entrance. “Thank you, for today. I know you were forced into this whole situation. But I am glad that if I have to marry and spend the rest of my life with anyone, it’s with you.”

 Lyanna couldn’t help but smile. She said nothing as Rhaegar placed a stray hair behind her ear. The Dragon Prince’s confession settled some of Lyanna’s anxiety.

In a moment of spontaneity, the She Wolf lifted onto her tip toes and placed a kiss on Rhaegar’s cheek. The Prince stood stunned as she whispered a good night and turned to go into the Maidenvault.   

“Lyanna,” Rhaegar called and the She Wolf stopped and turned to look at him. “Have you ever seen the sun rise from the horizon?”

“I have not,” she said quietly, the fire light from the entrance making it seem like the She Wolf was glowing.  

“There is a spot in the gardens that has the perfect view of Blackwater Bay. It’s the best spot to watch the sun rise. Would you like to break fast with me and watch it?”

Lyanna bit her lip to keep from smiling wide, “I would love to.”

Rhaegar didn’t hold back his smile. He smiled so wide almost all of his teeth showed. “Then I will see you in the morning.”

The She Wolf nodded once, “Good night…Rhaegar.”

“Good night, Lyanna.” Rhaegar couldn’t help but smile as he watched Lyanna continue into the Maidenvault.

In his rooms, Rhaegar could not sleep his mind anxious with anticipation for the morning. He picked up Maester Johan’s book and perched on the balcony rail. From here, he could see the Maidenvault.  His eyes traveled to the smaller building across the large courtyard.

Looking to the window all the way at the end, there was a single candle lit and someone leaning on the sill. He thought of the She Wolf and smiled, urging the night to end quicker.

 

In her rooms, Lyanna leaned on the window sill, her chin resting in her palm. There was a small smile on her face as she watched the Dragon Prince across the way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> Summer semester is finally over!! For two weeks at least and then the fall semester starts. I'm hoping to have another chapter out before I go back to school. 
> 
> One thing I do want to mention is that I really appreciate your patience. I know that it sometimes takes me a while to update, but please understand that I am a full-time student and I work 25 hours a week. I also have a personal life that I have to tend to once and a while. 
> 
> So please continue to be patient with me, your love for my story is what fuels me to continue to work on it. 
> 
> If you have any ideas or suggestions let me know and thank you everyone for the kudos and comments. Please keep them coming!


	11. Chapter Eleven

Lyanna bit her lip as Nera plaited her hair into an intricate ponytail. She barely slept, but she was wide awake, anticipation thrumming through her blood. She had enjoyed spending time with Rhaegar yesterday and was looking forward to spending more time with him today.

“Stop doing that,” Jaime said in a bored manner, not even looking up from examining his nails as he leaned against her mirror. “Your nail beds will look as ugly as a pigs.”

Lyanna immediately put her hands down; she hadn’t even noticed that she was picking at her nails, a bad habit she picked up from Brandon.

“I don’t know why you’re so nervous,” the Kingsguard said as he yawned. It was early in the morning, though dawn was not far off.  “It’s not like you’re doing anything important today.”

“She’s spending time with Prince Rhaegar today,” Nera said as she smiled at Lyanna in the mirror.   

“So?” Jaime asked.

“So, you never know where the day will take them,” Nera said looking at Jaime. “As Queen Rhaella always says, a woman must always look her best, especially for her husband.”

“Ah,” Jaime said as he crossed his arms, staring at the ladies maid in mock interest. Even though Lyanna didn’t think the poor ladies maid understood that. “So now Lady Stark is going to have to go through some beauty regiment everyday just to make her husband happy?”

“Wouldn’t you want your wife to look beautiful, Ser Jaime?” Nera said looking at the Lannister knight who had turned to the mirror to look at himself, “If you could have one.”

“If I fell in love with someone, it’s for their personality, not their looks.”

Lyanna laughed giving Jaime a look of disbelief, “That’s interesting coming from someone as vain as you.”

“I am not vain,” Jaime said and Lyanna gave him a look through the mirror, where he was currently smoothing his hair back. When he noticed that she was watching him he quickly put his hands down. “I’m not!”

“Yeah sure,” Lyanna chuckled as a knock sounded on the door. She stood, politely dismissing Nera with a smile and followed Jaime to the door.  

The Golden Lion opened the door and erupted into laughter. Looking over his shoulder, Lyanna saw the red hair of Jon Connington, whose face was twisted in displeasure. Behind him was Ser Lewyn Martell. “You’re up rather early,” Jaime said to Jon.  

“The Crown Prince is waiting for you in the gardens,” the Hand said shortly, barely giving them a look before turning around and starting to walk away.

“Woah, woah,” Jaime said as he grabbed Jon’s shoulder and turning him around, making the Hand roll his eyes. “Say good morning to her ladyship.”

Lyanna grabbed his arm, trying to stop him, “Jaime—

“No,” Jaime cut her off. “His actions towards you are inexcusable. Say good morning to her ladyship, as is custom to someone above your status.”

“I am Hand of the King; a Lady of the North is hardly above my status.”

“She is the betrothed to the Crown Prince, which alone warrants a higher status than you. Now give her a proper greeting. Or do I need to tell Rhaegar that you disrespected his betrothed? I have a feeling he won’t take to kindly to that.”  

Jon huffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. “Good morning,” he said reluctantly as he barely bowed his head. “Rhaegar is waiting for you in the garden, my Lady.”

Jaime smiled wide, “See was that so hard?” He pushed Jon away roughly. “I believe the Prince is waiting for you in the garden, Lady Stark.”  

Lyanna contained a smile as they followed Jon out of the Maidenvault. “Thank you,” she whispered to Jaime. Though she wasn’t really offended at the Hand of the King’s rude greeting, coming accustomed to his unwarranted dislike for her, she thought that it was sweet for the Lannister knight to defend her honor.

“No need to thank me, Lyanna,” Jaime said loud so that Jon could hear. “I was just trying to teach Jon not to be a cunt.”

“Don’t say that word,” Ser Lewyn said with a frown as he walked beside Jaime, “it’s uncouth, especially for a Kingsguard. Besides, a donkey is a much better representation of Jon.”

The two Kingsguard laughed as Lyanna noticed that Jon’s shoulders bunched in tension. The Wolf Maid felt slightly bad for the Hand of the King. It was no secret that the only person who truly liked Jon Connington was Rhaegar. He was short tempered and rude, but Lyanna attributed that to the enormous stress the red haired Hand must be under for being the Hand of the King to the Mad King.

But he wasn’t always like that. She saw him dance with Ashara Dayne at the Tourney at Harrenhal and he was always kind to the royal family and to the children around the Keep.

“Ser Jon,” Lyanna called as she reached out and touched his shoulder, but he jerked away.

“Save your apologies, Lady Stark,” Jon said barely looking at her over his shoulder. “I do not want them.”  The Hand walked away, leaving Lyanna to stare at his retreating figure.

“I don’t know what I did to him to make him dislike me,” The She Wolf said as she felt Jaime and Lewyn come up behind her.   

“Pay him no mind, Lady Lyanna,” Lewyn said as they continued to watch Jon as he went into the Tower of the Hand. “Jon sees you as a threat.”

Lyanna looked at him in confusion, “A threat?”

Before Lewyn could elaborate she heard her name. “Lyanna,” she heard Rhaegar call and she turned to the entrance of the garden, where the Dragon Prince was standing with Ser Arthur.

Even though he was wearing dark clothing, he was the one thing that stood out against the still dark sky. The She Wolf attributed it to his silver hair, which was plaited and lying over his shoulder.

“Good morning,” Lyanna said as he approached her, the thoughts of Jon completely leaving her mind as she felt the excited feelings return. “I hope you slept well.”

“I haven’t slept at all,” Rhaegar rushed out and then laughed at his eagerness.

Lyanna couldn’t help but smile as Rhaegar grabbed her hand and led her into the gardens, telling her how he had spent the night rereading Maester Johan’s book and how he still stands by his proclamation that the book is boring.

They paused in front of an elaborate table that was decorated with an assortment of food. From fruits to pastries, there wasn’t an inch of table to be seen. Some food she had never seen before.

“I didn’t know what you liked,” Rhaegar said as he pulled out Lyanna’s chair, “So I had the servants bring everything.”

“It looks delicious,” she said as the Prince helped her push her chair. She picked up a large red fruit and looked at it in bewilderment. “What on earth is this?”

Rhaegar laughed at her as he took it from her hands, “It’s a pomegranate. They’re imported from Dorne.”

“Oh,” she said as she studied it. She had heard of the large fruit from one of her father’s bannerman, he claimed that it was the most delicious fruit he had even eaten. “How do you eat it?”

She watched as Rhaegar tried to contain his smile. He placed the fruit on the plate and grabbed a knife, cutting the fruit into quarters. He was careful to not get the juice that had spilled out onto his tunic.

He pulled the pieces apart to reveal small red seeds. “You eat the seeds,” he said as he began to scrape them onto the plate before holding it out to her.

She looked at him, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t until Rhaegar pushed the plate a little further to her that she asked “You eat them with your fingers?”

“You can eat them with a spoon,” he offered and then grinned, “but I feel they taste better when you eat it with your fingers.”

The She Wolf looked around to make sure no one else was going to see the barbaric way she was about to eat and took a few seeds.

Placing the seeds in her mouth, the Wolf Maid’s face immediately scrunched as the sour taste filled her mouth, making Rhaegar laugh out loud. Lyanna had to pause in her swallowing to listen to it.

It was deep and sounded like a rumble and made his face light up. Right then, Lyanna had decided that Rhaegar’s laugh was the most beautiful sound in the world.

“They can be a bit tart, but you’ll eventually get to like them if you eat enough of them,” the Dragon Prince said after he calmed from laughing. “You really have never had a pomegranate before?”

Lyanna shook her head, “They don’t grow in Winterfell and they aren’t an essential food for winter so my father never had them imported.”

“What else haven’t you tried?” Rhaegar asked and held up an orange, a playful expression on his usually sullen face. “Have you ever had an orange?”

 Lyanna smiled at his teasing before throwing a piece of bread at him. “Now I see why Jaime calls you rude,” he said and her mouth dropped open in disbelief as he laughed.

“Your Highness, you insult me!”

“Rhaegar,” he corrected, looking at her in a way that Lyanna couldn’t decipher. It was a mixture of affection and curiosity.

Lyanna smiled at him softly, enjoying the way her heart flipped from the way he was looking at her. “Rhaegar,” she repeated.

They continued to tease each other and making each other laugh throughout breakfast.

It wasn’t until the plates were cleared and the sun’s rays were peaking from the horizon did their conversation taper off into a comfortable silence. Lyanna watched from the corner of her eye as the Dragon Prince took a tiny blue pellet from a tin in the palm of his hand and swallowed it.  

“Can I ask you something?” Rhaegar asked. Lyanna just nodded as she turned to him, still curious as to what the Prince had just taken. “Your brother mentioned that you ran away after your father had told you of your betrothal to Robert. What did Lord Hoster’s bannerman say to you that made you go back?”

Lyanna pursed her lips as she thought. “He said that while the situation was not desirable, my father had good intentions and it would bring shame to me and my family if I didn’t return.”

She paused, remembering as the kind bannerman handed her a handkerchief to wipe her tears. “He also said that although Robert was a whoring drunken bastard, he wasn’t abusive and he was honorable.

“He told me that everyone has a duty. The eldest boy to follow their father while the youngest boy becomes a Raven to the Night’s Watch or a bannerman to his brother. And a woman’s duty is to become a wife and then a mother. While that may not always be a woman’s desire, duty is duty and it must be done.”

“Duty must be done,” Rhaegar said more to himself than to her. Lyanna looked at him in concern. He muttered something else, but before she could ask if he was alright she felt the warmth of the sun’s rays and turned to the horizon.

The sun had begun to rise and Lyanna was stunned by its beauty. All her previous thoughts left her as the sky turned a multitude of colors. Like the breakfast food, some of these colors Lyanna had never seen painted the sky. The water shimmered like diamonds.

“And I thought the treasury in the Great Sept was beautiful,” she whispered, amazed.

In Winterfell, the sky was almost always covered in gray clouds. There were rare summer days that the sun would come out, but it would only be for a short amount of time and were not nearly as beautiful as this.  

Lyanna felt herself reach out for Rhaegar’s hand. The Dragon Prince grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. 

For a moment, with Rhaegar’s warm hand in hers, she felt like everything was going to be alright.

 

 

After breakfast, they had walked through the gardens arm and arm, Lyanna not paying any mind to the courtiers that were watching them, some with curiosity, most with envy.

She had offered to walk somewhere more private, like the godswood, but Rhaegar was insistent on walking through the gardens.  

The She Wolf had the sneaking suspicion that the Dragon Prince wanted to subtly show the people that yes, he actually liked his betrothed despite what the rumors say.

Lyanna felt herself smile; her cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling and laughing so much.

They heard a loud commotion from behind them and turned to see one of Rhaegar’s new squires running towards them, clumsily running into people as he tried to get to the Crown Prince.

He was one of the two squires that took the place of Ser Myles Moonton and Ser Richard Lonmouth. He was the youngest cousin to one of Ser Myles Mooton and was a tall and lanky boy that always looked like he was going to faint when he was in Rhaegar’s presence. A look that Lyanna noticed, many people had when they were around Rhaegar.

Arthur and Jaime moved out of the way before the poor boy could run into them. “Your Highness!” the squire said as he heaved for a breath. “Lady Stark.”   

“Matthias,” Rhaegar greeted, politely waiting for the boy to catch his breath.  

“I am sorry for disturbing you, my Lord, but the Lord of the North has arrived in Kings Landing and will be at the Keep in ten minutes time.”

Pure elation consumed the Wolf Maid as she turned to Rhaegar. The Prince smiled back at her before thanking Matthias.

Lyanna practically dragged the Prince to the stone steps. She bounced on her feet as she eagerly waited for her father’s arrival, Rhaegar watching her in amusement.

She grinned when she saw her father lead his riding party through the last barbican and into the baily. He was still wearing his dark northern furs and stood out against the color of King’s Landing.  Brandon and Eddard flanked each of their father’s side.   

Lord Rickard Stark halted right in front of the steps and barely had dismounted his horse before Lyanna screamed “PAPA!” and flew down the stairs into her father’s arms.

Her father lifted her off the ground as he hugged her tightly. “My darling girl!” He said as he kissed her head.

Lyanna closed her eyes as she squeezed her father as tight as she could. Despite his travels he smelled like cold air and the trees of the godswood. He smelled like home. Tears almost came to the She Wolf’s eyes. 

Lord Rickard gave her another squeeze before setting her down. “How I’ve missed you,” he said as he smoothed the hair from her face and placed an affectionate hand on her check. “They are treating you well here?”

Lyanna picked up his underlying question, ‘the prince has not lifted his hand to you?’ She placed her hand over her fathers. “I am being treated very well. The hospitality is more than I expected.”

Lord Rickard nodded once in affirmation before they heard Eddard say “Father, we would like to see our sister too.”

She turned to see him and Brandon standing there, they too in their fur trimmed cloaks. “Ned!” Lyanna hugged her Quiet Wolf; he squeezed her tightly before letting her go.

She turned to hug Brandon. “Baby sister,” Bran said wrapping her in a hug, squeezing her to the point where it began to hurt, something he had done since she was a child. It used to irritate her, but being away from her pack for so long she didn’t mind the small pain at all. “It’s been quiet around Winterfell now that you are not there to antagonize everyone.”

The She Wolf merely rolled her eyes before looking around, realizing that the youngest Stark was not present. “Where’s Benjen?”

Her father looked at her almost sadly, “You know there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.”

Lyanna’s heart dropped, but she understood. A Stark must always be present in Winterfell, a creed that had been passed down since the formation of the House Stark. And seeing as Benjen was neither their father’s heir or the second eldest, he was not required to attend the wedding.

Nodding she hugged Brandon again, taking comfort that at least father and her other brothers arrived with enough time to attend the wedding. “I hope your travels went well.”

“It did,” Brandon said as he hugged her back, this time without squeezing her painfully. “Remember when we arrived at Harrenhal and we were wondering what smelled so bad?” Lyanna gave him a questioning look, “Come to find out it is the smell of this shit hole.”

“Bran,” their fathered warned his eyes flitting over to where Rhaegar and the two Kingsguard were standing, but Brandon ignored him.

“Can you believe that?” he continued, “You are able to smell this shit hole all the way from Harrnehal.”

“Bran,” their father warned again but he was interrupted by the iron voice of Rhaegar.

“I’ll admit; the smell of King’s Landing takes a bit of getting used to.” The riding party bowed deeply as Rhaegar walked down the steps with Viserys, who must’ve been watching the gates and had come to see what the commotion was, holding his hand. “But I wouldn’t consider it a shit hole.”   

“Your Highness,” Rickard said as the Prince stood in front of him. Lyanna moved to stand by him, “Rhaegar, this is my father, Lord Rickard Stark, Warden of the North.”

“Lord Stark,” Rhaegar said as he bowed his head, “it’s good to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Your Highness,” Rickard said. His tone was even, but the Dragon Prince did not miss the way the Warden of the North’s eyes sized him up, as if he was assessing a threat.

Just then a small blond blur ran into Lyanna’s arm. “Viserys!” Rhaegar scolded as his brother giggled, “Where are your manners?”

Viserys just smiled at him as Lyanna lifted him. “Father, this is Prince Viserys of Summerhall. Viserys this is my father.” 

The little Prince said nothing as he bashfully looked at the Lord of the North with his face partially hidden in Lyanna’s shoulder.

Rickard smiled, “It’s nice to meet you, Your Highness.”

As Lyanna introduced Viserys to her brothers, Rhaegar turned to Lord Rickard, “I would like to meet with you at your earliest convenience,” he whispered, not wanting to attract the attention of Maester Pycelle, who was standing on the steps next to Arthur and Jaime.

If he were to see Rhaegar whispering to the Lord of the North, the old Maester wouldn’t hesitate to run and tell the King. Who undoubtedly would see it as a slight against him and demand to know what it was the Rhaegar whispered to him.  

Rickard nodded his eyes not leaving Lyanna, “Tonight,” he whispered back before looking to Viserys, who had just angrily stopped his foot while looking at the eldest Stark with anger.

“ _I’m_ Lya’s brother,” he said with a huff as he hugged Lyanna tightly around the hips. “Not you! She’s mine!”

“The little tyke’s grown attached has he?” Brandon said with a laugh, looking at the youngest Prince with amusement.

Lyanna rubbed his back as she tried to coax Viserys to let go of her. This resulted in him only hugging her tighter while looking at the Wild Wolf in hate. “Viserys, Brandon and Ned are my brothers too, that doesn’t mean I love you any less. In fact, I love you more than I do them.”

Viserys looked at her for confirmation; she nodded and gave him a gentle smile. He hesitantly let her go, but was quick to grab her hand before turning back to the Stark brothers, this time wariness in his eyes instead of anger.  

“Too bad you hate us, Your Highness,” Ned said as he grabbed a box from the wagon next to them, “We heard it was recently your name day, so we brought you a gift all the way from the North.”

That caught Visery’s attention, the wariness on his face lessening. “A gift?” Ned nodded as he held out the box for the little Prince to take. “What is it?”

“Open it and find out,” Lyanna said and Viserys reluctantly let go of her hand and stepped towards Ned. Lifting the lid, his eyes lit up as he took his gift out of the box. It was a large figurine of Aegon Targaryen riding his great dragon Balerion. The figurine was forged out of the very rare Valyrian steel.

Viserys face light up like the sun. “Lyanna had told us that you greatly admire Aegon the Conqueror,” Rickard said to the speechless Prince. “So we had the blacksmith at Winterfell make this for you.”

Viserys clutched the figurine tightly to him as he looked between the Starks with a wide smile. Knowing his brother and his appreciation for Aegon the Conqueror, the Starks had just made a new best friend. “Thank you! This is the greatest nameday gift I have ever gotten.”

“Received,” Rhaegar corrected, but it had fallen on deaf ears.

“You’re welcome, Your Highness,” Brandon said. “One day, you can have this melted down to make a greatsword that will be as terrifying as Balerion the Black Dread. And then you will be prepared for any conflict that comes.”

Viserys eyes went wide in excitement as Lyanna looked to Bran in alarm, “Bran! Don’t fill his with thoughts of war.”

The little Prince turned to his brother, “Can I Rhaegar? You will be King by then, you can have the blacksmiths make it for me!”

The Dragon Prince smiled at his brother, “We’ll see when you’re older.”

His Septa stepped forward and reached her hand out for the youngest Prince, “Come along, Your Highness,” she said, “Let’s go show the Queen your new gift.”

Viserys grinned and grabbed his Septa’s hand eagerly, “Mama is going to love my new gift! Did you know it came all the way from the North?”

Once the Prince was out of hearing range Lyanna punched her brother. “I can’t believe you said that to him.”

“Everyone needs a Valyrian sword,” Bran said. “As long as they learn how to wield it correctly there would be no harm done,” he grinned, “except for the person on the receiving end.”  

The Wolf Maid rolled her eyes as he looked to her. “Look at you, you learned how to wield a sword and is your head filled with thoughts of war? No. Though it did give you the hands of a man,” he said before easily blocking Lyanna’s punch with a laugh.

Lyanna heard Jaime Lannister laugh behind Rhaegar and turned to him with a glare. The Golden Lion stopped laughing, but not before mouthing ‘man hands’ with a smile that matched her brothers. The She Wolf had to refrain from stomping over there and punching the Kingsguard.

“Brandon,” their father said, “leave your sister alone.”

“She’s throwing fists and you scold me!” The Wild Wolf said with fake exasperation. “You _always_ favor, Lyanna.”

“That’s because I’m father’s favorite,” Lyanna said and Bran scoffed in offense making her stick her tongue out.  Ned just rolled his eyes as the Lord of the North let out a loud exasperated sigh.

Rhaegar watched their bickering with amusement. He had grown up an only child, sibling squabbles were something he didn’t see often especially with someone so outspoken as Lyanna.    

“I hate to break up this little reunion,” they heard Jon Connington say as he came towards them; he barely spared the younger Stark's a glance as he stopped in front of their father. “But the King is demanding your presence, Lord Stark.”

“What does the King want with my father?” Brandon asked sternly as he stepped forward. He stood must taller than the Hand but Jon merely glanced up at him with disdain. The Lord of the North just pushed his son back before stepping forward to face Jon.

“I am at the King’s command,” Lord Stark said cordially.

“Follow me” Jon said before bowing to Rhaegar and walking away, Lord Rickard following behind him. Brandon gave Jon a hateful look before turning to Lyanna, who looked at him with worry.

There was a momentary silence as they looked at each other, the easy atmosphere disappearing with the summons from the King.

The King’s summons never ended well for those other than Rhaegar. It usually meant that they were about to be burned.

“It’ll be alright,” Rhaegar said as Lyanna looked to him with knitted eyebrows. “I will make sure nothing happens to your father.” He motioned for a servant, “Show the Stark's their rooms; I am sure they are tired after a long journey.”

 

 

Rhaegar watched from his balcony as Lyanna, Brandon, and Ned stood in the courtyard, Ser Jaime Lannister and some northern bannerman with them.

He had gone to the King’s chancery to stand in the meeting with Lord Stark, but he was denied entry. _“The King would like to speak to Lord Stark alone,”_ the guard had said and the Dragon Prince had to refrain from snapping at him.

Knowing better than to fight the King’s decree, he went to his room and waited, pacing back and forth before he heard Lyanna laughing from the courtyard.

He watched as Jaime said something and made the Wild Wolf laugh. It made an uncomfortable feeling sit in the middle of his chest.  

Rhaegar felt a presence next to him and saw the fur trimmed cloak of Rickard Stark. His long pale face watching his children, their chatter filling the silence.

“The meeting with the King went well?” Rhaegar finally asked and Rickard turned to him and nodded.

“As well as a meeting with the King can go,” Lord Rickard replied. “He did not call for me to burn, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then what did he call you for?” Rhaegar asked, still feeling on edge that the King kept him out of a meeting. He knew that he should’ve addressed the Lord of the North with a more even tone. 

If Lord Rickard noticed that Rhaegar was speaking to him with a tense tone he didn’t show it. “He is worried that the other houses are rising against him. He wanted me to bend the knee and swear fealty to him,” he said evenly.

Of course the King would force the Lord of the North to bend the knee. Lord Rickard rarely left his lands, what better time to force him to bend the knee then when he was here to witness his daughter’s wedding to the Crown Prince.

“I know that’s why you asked me to meet you,” Lord Rickard continued. “My son said that you had a meeting at Harrenhall and the other houses were not very responsive to your plight.”      

Rhaegar blew out the breath he’d been holding, “He’s right. The North and Dorne are the only ones parts of the realm that agreed.”

Rickard nodded, “If you’ll allow me to speak freely, Your Grace, the other houses are… hesitant. Most do not want a war to break out; it would be very costly for them.

“And to be honest, Your Highness they are unsure of you. They do not know if this is a ploy to find traitors or if you are sincere in your plight for an overthrow.”

“Then I beg you, Lord Stark, please, help me. The other houses trust your judgement, they trust you. Show them that I am sincere. If you were to convince them to join me in the fight against my father, then we will be unstoppable.”

Lord Rickard looked at him before shifting his gaze to Lyanna. “Despite the way it came about you are going to be my good-son, you are family, and Northernmen never turn their backs on their family,” he said as he turned to look at him again. “I will try to rally the other houses, but there are no guarantees that they will heed my words.”

Rhaegar felt relief, he didn’t know of the Lord of the North was just agreeing for his daughters sake or for the realm’s, whichever it was, Rhaegar was still grateful.  

“There is more, my Lord,” Lord Rickard said. “There is talk of Tywin Lannister planning his own overthrow. He wants to unseat House Tragaryen from the Iron Throne and instead place Robert Baratheon on the throne.”

Rhaegar turned to him. This was news to him. He knew of Tywin’s recent planning’s, but he had not known that it included Robert Baratheon. That posed a problem.  

“Lord Baratheon was once betrothed to you daughter, do you think he has the means to harm her and any children would bear?” Rhaegar asked, and he Lord Rickard looked at him.

“I do not believe Lord Robert would bring harm to Lyanna, he holds a brotherly affection for my son Ned and I do not think he would do anything to upset him. However, Robert Baratheon is a formidable enemy; nothing stops the brute when he wants something.”

“Then what do you suggest I do to tame Lord Baratheon?” Rhaegar asked, he refrained from rubbing his eyes as a headache formed.

Lord Rickard turned to look at his children, this time his eyes resting on Eddard. “I am not that person you should be asking.”

They watched as Brandon said something to Ned, which made Lyanna snap back in her brother’s defense. The Wild Wolf laughed at his sister, which only angered her more.

The Northern Lord slightly smiled. “I hope you are prepared, Your Highness, it will not be easy being married to Lyanna,” he said as they watched Lyanna chase Brandon with Jaime’s sword.

He fully smiled at the questioned look on the Dragon Prince’s face.  “Like my eldest, Lyanna too has the wolfs blood in her. She’s stubborn and strong willed and goes wherever the wind takes her.”

‘Like a dragon,’ Rhaegar thought and slightly smiled when Brandon caught Lyanna around the waist and spun her. Her shriek of laughter and demands for her brother to let her go ringing through the courtyard.  

“Promise me,” Lord Rickard said softly, “that if Tywin’s plans were to unfold, that you will send my daughter somewhere safe.”

“Of course,” the Dragon Prince replied, his heart sinking at just the thought of something happening to his betrothed. “Lyanna’s safety is my main concern.”

“Then prepare yourself, Your Highness,” The Lord of the North said, satisfied with Rhaegar’s answered, “War is on the horizon.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Can anyone guess what the blue pellet is? =)
> 
> Anyway, happy back to school week for those of you who started or are starting school! Classes start again tomorrow so updates might slow down, please be patient during this time. I will update as fast as my schedule allows it.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented and gave me kudos, keep 'em coming!
> 
> If you have any questions or suggestions please let me know.


	12. Chapter Twelve

The She Wolf had to refrain from biting her nails in anxiousness as she listened to the commotion from the gardens below. Wedding preparations were underway for the royal wedding that was happening in four days. In four days she was to become Crown Princess of the Realm.

Lyanna felt like she was going to be sick.

“Lyanna?” She heard the Queen call and Lyanna turned to her. She was looking at her in concern, “Are you alright? You look like you are about to be sick.”   

They were sitting under a canopy on the Queen’s large balcony. It was just the two of them having tea today; their normal companion Viserys was off with her brothers. The last she heard of them they were teaching the young prince how to use a bow in the godswood.

The She Wolf nodded and gave her a reassuring smile, “I am fine, thank you for your concern.”

The Queen smiled back at her, giving her a knowing look. “Have you chosen your hand maidens yet?” She asked as she sipped her tea.

Lyanna didn’t see the need in having five or more women help her throughout the day, one or two yes, but more than that was unnecessary. Her silence gave the Queen her answer.

“As a lady of the royal court, especially the Crown Princess, it is essential to have hand maidens,” the Queen continued as if she were reading Lyanna’s mind. “Besides maintaining your wardrobe, your servants, and representing you on your behalf, they are also your eyes and ears of the court. Anything that happens in court you will know. Anything you want kept secret they will see to it that it does. They are almost like your guards. They must be trustworthy and loyal above all else, so choose them well.”

That posed a problem. The only other women the She Wolf knew were the Queen, Nera, and Cersei. And she would rather chew off her hand than ask Cersei Lannister to be her hand maiden.

“How did you pick your hand maidens?” Lyanna asked.

“I did not, my mother did,” Queen Rhaella said. “But I know what a difficult situation you are in. Many of these women have been cruel to you. So I believe that you should be able to choose your own, though I hope you do not mind that I did take the liberty of asking Nera if she would like to leave my company to be part of yours. She agreed.”

Lyanna smiled wide and looked at Nera, who was sitting at the other table with the Queen’s hand maidens. “I would love for Nera to be a part of my company,” she had grown close to Nera over the month that her new hand maiden had been serving her. And she realized that Nera was not slow, she was just quiet and did not speak unless she had something to say. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.

The Queen smiled at her, “I have composed a list of all of the eligible maidens. I expect your list by tomorrow morning.”

 

 

“Who am I going to ask?” Lyanna huffed as she walked back towards the Maiden Vault. Nera kept her pace as Jaime walked with much slower steps, but still quick enough to be able to look at her with mild interest. “I know someone,” he offered.

The She Wolf just looked at him “You’re not going to offer your sister’s name, are you?”

Jaime’s face scrunched like she had punched him in the stomach, “No! Why would I bring that horror upon the both of you?”

“I just figured that you’d want your sister to have a purpose to stay in King’s Landing, before your father calls her home.”

“Cersei will stay in King’s Landing regardless if Father calls her back or not,” Jaime said, but before he could continue one of the courtiers approached her, a giddy smile on her face.

“My Lady,” she said as she bowed.

She looked to Nera, “Maryanella Turnaster,” she whispered, “Her husband is Lord Nikoli Turnaster, a textile merchant that supplies the royal household.”

Lyanna turned back to the short plump woman in front of her, “Ah, Lady Maryanella, how are you today?”

Lady Maryanella smiled at her, “I am fine, my Lady. All is well with you? I bet you’re busy with the wedding only being four days away.”

The She Wolf had to refrain from rolling her eyes, she hated making small talk. “I am,” she smiled, “never a quiet moment in the Keep.”

Lady Maryanella nodded as if she was interested. “I am sure of it. There is word around court that the Queen has given you the permission to select the women for your company and are now in search of someone to serve as your hand maiden.”

And there was the silver lining. Lyanna felt like narrowing her eyes but she simply turned to Nera with a smile and faked a laugh, “My how word travels fast,” she said, only slightly irritated at the fact that she had only be given the command not even twenty minutes ago and women are already flocking to her. “Yes, the Queen has allowed me to start looking for my own hand maidens.”

The She Wolf was unsure of where the conversation was going; this woman looked like she hadn’t lifted a finger a day in her life, why would she want to be a hand maiden? It wasn’t until she saw Lady Maryanella motion for the girl behind her to come forward that everything started to fall into place.  

Maryanella smiled again, she spoke as if she were breathless. “I would like to introduce my daughter, Kyra. She has just turned six and ten.” Kyra was taller than her mother and much thinner. She had round face which only got wider as she smiled.

“Oh,” the She Wolf said, looking to Jaime for help. The Kingsguard just mutely shrugged. “Uh, congratulations?” It was then that she noticed most of the women at court were staring at her and began to slowly make their way towards her.

“It had always been her dream to serve the royal household once she became of age,” Maryanella said and pushed her daughter forward. The girl stumbled before straightening up and going into a bow. “Might you be able to consider her to serve your company?”

“It would be an honor to serve you, my Lady,” Kyra said with a stiff lip. Lyanna knew that the last thing Kyra wanted to do was be her hand maid. Last she had seen her she was squawking away with Cersei Lannister. 

She cleared her voice and kept an eye on the approaching horde. “I-um, will keep you in mind when I make-make my decision.”

Lady Maryanella grinned, “Thank you, my Lady,” she said as she bowed.

Lyanna just nodded and turned, walking away quicker than before. Once they were a safe distance away Jaime burst into laughter.

“That was painful to watch,” he said as he laughed at her.

The Wolf Maid huffed. “I have been here for two moons and that was the first time that woman has spoken to me. The last time I saw Kyra, she was giggling with your sister about my hair.”

“Kyra is also known to do unsavory things with the guards in the stables,” Nera added with a disgusted look on her face.

“How horrible,” Jaime mocked and Lyanna stopped quickly, making him bump into her. She turned to him with a glare and his smile instantly. “Sorry.”

 They were stopped a total of three more times before she finally was in the safety of the Maiden Vault. Since her arrival every woman of the court avoided her, acting as if she was a locust. But now, she couldn’t get rid of them.

It was quiet when she walked in, which meant her brothers and father were still out shooting arrows. Sitting at the table that was by the fire place she motioned for Nera to sit down and opened the list again.

She did not know any of these women, so she asked Nera, with the occasional comment from Jaime, her opinion of them. She had been a hand maiden to the Queen for almost three years, she knew these women better than anyone.

One by one they went through the list and crossed out the names. It was horrible to see how much deception and betrayal went on in this court.

Queen Rhaella said they had to be loyal, just, and trustworthy and according to Nera, none of these women were. “Moral lacking social climbers who spread their legs for anything with a penis,” is how she put it, which even made Jaime speechless as he looked at the She Wolf with wide eyes full of surprise.

“Okay,” Lyanna said as she turned back to the list. The shock from Nera’s outburst still resonating in her mind. “What about Jacline Waters?”   

“The bastard daughter of Lord Croach,” Jaime lamely added from his position near the fireplace.  

“A _recognized_ bastard,” Nera said looking at Jaime with annoyance before turning back to Lyanna. “I have never met her but I do see her walking around the Keep with her brother sometimes. She keeps to herself mostly.” Nera said and then gave a firm nod “I think she’d be a good choice.”  

Lyanna nodded, trusting Nera’s judgement. “Go to her please and offer her an invitation.” Nera affirmed and stood from the table, bowing to her before leaving the room.

“What am I going to do?” Lyanna asked as she leaned back in her chair. “That was one woman out of the fifty-two names. How can this many women in one city be so corrupted?”

“Women often do the bidding of men and then just get caught up in it,” Jaime said as he sat in Nera’s empty sear.

“The Queen has seven hand maidens,” Lyanna said. “Where the hell am I going to find five more ladies who are loyal, just, and trustworthy to be my hand maidens?”

“I don’t think there are a set number of women you have to have,” Jaime said as he poured himself some water from the decanter.  “But you could always go outside of Kings Landing and ask some of the lords if they have any daughters.”

Lyanna drummed her fingers, she had already thought of that. “The problem there is that most of the houses have boys or daughters that are still too young to leave home.” There was always Catelyn or Lysa Tully. Though Lyanna knew her brother would forbid his future wife to ever live in the Mad King’s court and Lysa was too nervous and shy for court life, she would be eaten alive in Kings Landing.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Jaime stood, lest he be seen sitting on duty as Lyanna called for the visitor to come in. A large frame donning the Kingsguard armor walked in.

“Ser Lewyn!” Lyanna greeted with a smile as she stood. “How are you today?”

Ser Lewyn Martell walked in fully and bowed before clearing his throat. “I am well, my Lady. I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course,” she said and Lewyn looked at Jaime, his ‘alone’ silently ringing through the air. There were a few moments of silence before Jaime finally got the hint. “Oh,” he said with realization, “I’ll go and stand outside.”

Lyanna just shook her head as they watched Jaime walk out of the door. She once heard Cersei say that Jaime was the stupidest Lannister, and sometimes the She Wolf thought that Cersei was right. Once the door was fully shut she turned back to the Dornish Kingsguard and smiled. “What can I help you with?”

Ser Lewyn opened and closed his mouth a few times as if he were struggling to speak. He finally cleared his throat again. “I actually have a favor to ask you.”

“A favor?”

Lewyn nodded. “I know a woman whose presence here is being questioned by many of the courtiers. She is not from an affluent family and has no job to keep her here. There is a risk of her being sent back to Dorne because of this. You are looking for women to be part of your company and I believe she would be perfect for it.”

Lewyn paused again as he looked down at his hands as if mustering the courage to talk to ask her. “I was wondering if perhaps you would consider her? She has many talents that pertain to the job. She would not disappoint.”

It took Lyanna a few moments to discern the look on Ser Lewyn’s face, but once she got it her heart dropped. It was the look she remembered her mother having everytime her father left on diplomatic visits throughout the North. It was the look of love. And then it dawned on her, the Kingsguard were not permitted to have intimate relationships.

“Ser Lewyn, I want you to be completely honest with me and know that whatever is said in this room will never leave it. But is this woman your paramour?”

Ser Lewyn’s eyes closed tightly as if he was in pain. “Yes, she is and I cannot live without her, please,” he opened them again and went to his knees in front of her, “There is very little in this life that makes me as happy as she does. Please, My Lady I’m begging you—”

The She Wolf held her hand up and Lewyn immediately stopped talking. She grabbed his hands and helped him stand as she gave him a gentle smile. It took a lot for him to come here and ask her. If she was someone like Cersei, Lewyn would immediately be dismissed and punished for breaking his oath to the Kingsguard. But the She Wolf was nothing like the temperamental lioness. “Tell her to be here tomorrow morning for the introduction.”

Lewyn’s shoulders sagged as if the weight of the world had just lifted from them as a wide smile took over his face. His kissed both of her hands, “Thank you, My Lady, thank you.”

Lyanna just smiled at him as he bowed again and opened the door, greeting Jaime. Once the Dornish man left, Jaime walked back in and closed the door.

“He asked you to have his Paramour as your hand maiden didn’t he?”

Lyanna looked at him in shock, “How did you know?”

“I was listening through the door,” Jaime said with the grin. Lyanna pulled his hair hard in punishment which made the Golden Lion laugh.  “I knew he was going to. He’s been looking for a reason for her to stay in Kings Landing. She was the one I was going to recommend earlier.”

“So you knew he had one all along?”

Jaimed snorted. “ _All_ of the Kingsguard know. It’s hard to keep anything a secret in the barracks. Even Rhaegar knows.” 

Lyanna studied him. If the rest of the Kingsguard knew that Ser Lewyn had a paramour, then they had to have known that Jaime was sneaking out to see someone too.“What do you tell them when you go to your sister?”

Jaime examined the bowl of fruit on the table before helping himself to an apple. “I tell them I’m going to the Sept to pray. None of them are religious so they don’t come looking for me.”

Lyanna shook her head at him again; she highly doubted that the Kingsguard believed that. It wasn’t hard to see that a Sept was the last place Jaime would step foot in.  

“Just make sure to keep this sweet demeanor up tomorrow. If you show the denizens of Kings Landing your true personality they won’t like you.”

Lyanna’s smile dropped immediately. With the hand maiden ordeal, she had completely forgotten about tomorrow. They were to ride through the city to officially introduce her to the public before going to the Sept and asking the new golds for their blessings on her and Rhaegar’s marriage.

Nera had once told her that the citizens of King’s Landing were just as ruthless as the courtiers. If they didn’t like you and the courtiers didn’t like you, then your life would be a living nightmare.    

She felt her anxiety come back as she thought about tomorrow. “Shit.”

 

 

Lyanna stood on the balcony, enjoying the joyful noise from below. Her brothers and the northern banner men were sitting around a small table in the court yard playing cards, their laughter floating through the air brightening up the usually quiet keep.

Brandon’s boisterous laugh could be heard and the She Wolf couldn’t help but smile.

She heard someone behind and turned to see her father. She gave him a small smile, “Hello, Papa.”

He smiled as he stood next to her, placing his arm around her shoulders. A sense of familiar comfort immediately fell over her.

Though, it was only brief as she felt trepidation. What if the public didn’t like her? They all came from the same lands, yet she was a foreigner to them. She was never at court like Cersei, and certainly didn’t have the charisma the lioness had either.

“Father,” she called softly, breaking their quietness, “how did you get the people of the North to like you?”

“I grew up with most of them,” her father said as he looked down at her, “when I became Warden of the North they already knew what to expect. Why do you ask?”

She turned and looked at him. “I am not what the people here are expecting. I am not a proper lady; I do not like small talk, or covering my face in paint or having my hair done. Or even wearing dresses for that matter. I am not charismatic nor am I charming. I am the last person who should be in a position like this.”

Her father looked at her with a seriousness she had never seen and placed both hands on her shoulders. “Lyanna, you are more of a lady than any of these harlots here in this court. Face paint and beautiful hair and nice dresses do not define what a lady is. It is your character. You are virtuous, courageous, and kind, among many other wonderful attributes. You are exactly what the people of this realm need.”

“Yes, but they may not realize that,” she replied. “And if that’s the case then how do I get them to like me?”

“My dear, the people of this city are sheep, they will go wherever the wolf herds them.” His grey eyes bore into her own. “And one thing always remains certain,” Lyanna looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, “if you win their minds, then their hearts and souls are yours.”

 

 

Lewyn’s paramour Taria Staelle was tall; dark skinned, and had the most beautiful brown eyes Lyanna had ever seen. Her dark hair was cropped short and she stood with such self-assurance that the She Wolf felt inferior in her presence.

Next to her was Nera, her light brown hair lying on her shoulders. She stole glances at Taria as if she were afraid to look at her fully.

And finally there was Jacline, a mousy looking girl with hair the color of wheat and blue eyes. Like Nera, she spoke softly but with a firmer tone.

The three of them stood together with Rhaegar’s household, which upon marriage would become hers as well.

“Ladies and gentleman thank you for coming,” The Queen said cordially as Lyanna stood behind her. It was custom in King’s Landing for the Queen to select the women to serve the Crown Princess but seeing as Rhaella gave her the choice, the She Wolf had little to no clue what the rules and guidelines were set out for the men and women of the royal household. So Rhaella had been kind to step in for her.

“Though most of you are not new in this position, I believe it is always good for a reminder of what is expected of you,” Rhaella said as she paced back and forth in front of the group. Her hands were clasped in front of her. Her back was as straight as a board and her shoulders were tight with authority. She looked every bit a Queen.

“Before we start, please be aware that there are two new additions to the Crown Princely household. Taria Staelle and Jacline Waters along with Nera Massey are to serve as Lady Lyanna Stark’s hand maidens.”

The household bowed in greeting to the three women before standing straight again and giving their Queen there attention.

“Being a part of the royal household pertains that you are held up to a certain set of rules and standards, more so than serving any other noble house. While in the service of the royal household, you will be honorable, discreet, just, and trustworthy in your conduct. You must not quarrel, swear, say evil things, or drink in public. Nor will you behave lewdly on pain of dismissal and banishment.”

The company bowed. “Yes, Your Grace.”   

“I cannot emphasis enough that you must be discreet in everything you do. We are in a place full of traitors and instigators, any little thing can have the severest consequence.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Rhaella looked over them with a critical gaze. “Now that we have established these rules those who feel that they cannot abide by them can step forward for a dismissal of post.”

When none stepped forward the Queen gave a curt nod, “Then you are all dismissed.”

When the room emptied, Rhaella approached Lyanna’s new hand maidens. “You have been chosen as the best and now it is time to prove your skill. Nera, I am appointing you as Mistress of the Robes, I know that you will see to it that Taria and Jacline are trained in all matters of court.” Nera bowed deeply in thanks as the Queen looked at the three of them again.

“Today marks the start of the wedding activities. As it is the third day before the wedding, it is customary for the Crown Prince and his betrothed to ride through the city as a way to introduce her to the public; from there they will meet myself and the Lord of the North at the Sept of Baelor where we will ask the gods for a blessing of the union. Lyanna must be ready in two hours’ time.”

The three women nodded before they bowed and left the sitting room in a hurry. Rhaella just turned to her with a small smile and a nod before leaving the room.

 

 

The Red Keep was a flurry of activity. Wedding preparations were underway as well as the noble houses arriving for the tourney. The King was none too happy about the tourney, but one whisper from Varys and his mind was easily changed.   

Rhaegar stood waiting with the riding party that was to follow them through the city. Lyanna was running late, which was something she normally was not. Next to him was Jon, who huffed impatiently.

“Go to Lady Stark, see what is keeping her,” Jon said to the squire next to him. It took Rhaegar a moment to register his irritation at the presumption that Jon had the right to order Lyanna as such. He saw Brandon’s look of anger, but before the Wild Wolf could say anything, the Dragon Prince spoke.

“Do not go anywhere,” Rhaegar commanded to the guard, his eyes narrowed at Jon. “Lyanna will arrive when she is ready.” He then leaned into Jon and spoke softly but his irritation slipped through, “You are a good friend, Jon, but do not think that I will allow you to treat her like you treat other women. She is going to be my wife; you will give her the respect that she deserves.”

Jon bowed his head in submission, “I meant no disrespect, Your Highness, it’s just that that—“

“I’m here!” Lyanna called as she hurried down the stone steps. Three women followed behind her, each wearing matching light pink dresses that were in a similar style to Lyanna’s light pink chiffon dress. Their hair was also pinned halfway back just like the She Wolfs. 

Rhaegar’s irritation completely dissipated at the sight of Lyanna.

She looked beautiful in light pink. Her dress flowing around her as she hurried down the steps made her look like she was descending on a cloud. He recognized Nera, but gave Lyanna a questioning look at the two new women who went to stand next to the extra horses behind them.

“My new hand maidens,” she whispered. “Partly the reason why I’m late, one of them almost burnt my hair off.” Rhaegar looked at her in shock, noticing now that her hair was a bit shorter, but she shook her head, “Don’t ask.”

She turned to the riding party and bowed, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” she said loudly. 

“It’s quite alright, sister” Brandon said giving Nera a smile and winked. “Beautiful ladies are always worth the wait.”

Nera just sneered at him as Rhaegar saw Lyanna give her brother a tense smile as she walked towards him. The Prince knew that his betrothed tried to make punching her brother in the chest look like it was made in jest but Brandon’s wince said otherwise.

“You are such a flatterer brother,” Lyanna said with a laugh but the look she gave her brother was not made for jesting. “Now stop, before your betrothed finds out and becomes insulted that you are calling other women beautiful.” She smiled again as the others around them laughed, but Rhaegar saw the smile on Wild Wolf’s face die.

Before his betrothed could do anymore damage he cleared his throat, “Shall we?” He asked as he held out his hand. Lyanna smiled at him and took his offered hand. Rhaegar helped her onto her horse and was surprised when she sat side-saddled. He gave her a look, but she said nothing.

Rhaegar mounted his own horse, which signaled for the others to mount their horses as well. The party took their formation. Behind him and Lyanna were Arthur, Lewyn, and Jaime. And behind them were Lyanna’s three hand maidens, Brandon, and Jon. They were flanked and trailed by the various castle guards and bannerman from the North, who were eyeing the mostly Lannister guards with apprehension.

“Ready?” He asked and Lyanna nodded her head once. The Prince motioned for the gates to be raised and the party moved through the baily and out into the city.

 

 

They were immediately met with screams of adoration as they exited to the last gate. It was like when they had come back from Harrenhal, but more intense. People held their hands out and threw flower petals at them and one woman even kissed Rhaegar’s foot as he passed her.

‘This isn’t so bad,’ Lyanna thought as she smiled and waved at the people calling for her attention. Halfway through their march Rhaegar called for a halt as he accepted a flower from a small child. As Lyanna watched the little girl’s face light up as Rhaegar dropped from his horse and picked her up, she heard a commotion and turned to see a man from the crowd push his way passed the guards before he tightly grabbed her ankle and began to tug hard.

He was screaming at her as he tried to tug her off her horse, but with all of the commotion she couldn’t pick up what he was saying. Suddenly a guard placed the pole of his spear under the offender’s neck and choked him until the man let go of her.

With all of the confusion, Snow began to squeal and reared. As Lyanna tried to calm her nervous horse Jaime had grabbed the man from the northern guard and threw him to the ground, his sword immediately at the offender’s neck.

But before the Kingsguard could do anything more Lyanna spoke “Wait!” she called and Jaime looked at her in surprise. “Wait.” Once Snow was settled, she handed the reigns to an alarmed guard and climbed off of her horse. She went towards the fallen man as the crowd around them fell silent.  

She placed a hand on Jaime’s shoulder “There is no need for bloodshed today,” she said. Jaime gave her a look, which she knew to interpret it as ‘let me do it.’ There was also something else his look was trying to tell her, but she ignored it.  

“He put his hands on you, my Lady,” Jaime said and Lyanna just smiled kindly at him and turned to the man on the ground.

The man gave her a foul look, but she merely stretched her hand out to him with the same kind smile. It was clear that he was taken aback as his eyes went from her to Jaime and back to her, but the She Wolf smiled wider. He hesitantly took her hand and she pulled him up but still kept a hold of his hand.

“I am sorry that Ser Jamie has handled you so. And I am sorry if I have offended you in any way for you to feel anger towards me,” she tried to make her eyes soft like the way the Queen did when she wanted to make it seem liked she cared about a story a courtier was telling her. 

It seemed to have worked as the man stammered “M’lady, I’m—” he paused as if he was captivated by Lyanna.

Just then Rhaegar came around, bewildered and angry, Arthur following right behind him. And of course, Brandon was right behind the Kingsguard. His expression twice as angry and twice as lethal as Rhaegars.

“What has happened here?” Rhaegar asked looking frantically between Lyanna, Jaime, and the man, who instantly dropped the She Wolfs hand when the Prince’s gaze glanced over it.

Jaime jumped in before Lyanna could say a word. “This man has laid a hand on Lady Lyanna. He tried to tug her off her horse,” he said.

“Arrest him,” Rhaegar said immediately and with no hesitation. Jaime and Arthur moved to grab the man but Lyanna stood in front of him.

“That is not needed!” She said quickly acutely aware that they were being watched by everyone. Now was the time for the public to form an opinion about her. She didn’t want to seem like a damsel and she didn’t want to seem like any little unkind thing a commoner did or said to her would be cause a death. She did not want these people to fear her. So she stood in front of the man.

“He laid his hands on you,” Rhaegar said, standing firm in his decision.

“Anyone who lays a hand on the member of the royal family is punishable by death,” Brandon added, which made the man cry in fear.

“I’m sorry for acting towards you as I did, it was ill judgement!” The man said on the verge of hysteria. 

“I am not yet a member of the royal family,” Lyanna countered, glaring at her brother as she felt just a slight of pity for the terrified man.

“Then he should be arrested for laying his hands on a woman,” Rhaegar said lowly so only she could hear.

Lyanna paused. She had no argument for that. Rhaegar knew how she felt about the mistreatment of woman. But she knew the people around them were watching intently, and if she wanted them to like her then she needed to momentarily let her beliefs go.

Lyanna shook her head, the smile returning to her face. Rhaegar played on her morals, so she decided to play on his. The Dragon Prince believed in mercy and reveled in the fact that the people saw him as merciful. “No harm has been done. Perhaps mercy can be extended to this man?”

Rhaegar studied her. He knew that she had just played him, and just like Jaime the Dragon Prince’s expression asked her to let them arrest the man.

It was a few moments of tense silence before Rhaegar heaved a breath “Pray to the Mother for forgiveness for raising your hand to a woman.”

The man cried in relief as he bent down and kissed Rhaegar’s hand. “Thank you, Your Highness! Thank you.”

Rhaegar just shook the man’s hand as Bran grabbed her hand and led her back to her horse. As she was walking away she turned and saw Rhaegar lean in closely to whisper something to the man. The Prince’s face had lost all of its cordialness and as he spoke, all of the color drained out of the man’s face.

Once Rhaegar was back on his horse, Lyanna turned to the shaken man and smiled, “See you again!” The man looked like he was about to faint.

As Rhaegar called for the party to move forward she turned to look at him. “What did you say to that man that made him look like he was about to faint?”

Rhaegar waved to the adoring citizens, never breaking his smile, “Nothing, just a warning.”

Lyanna waved and smiled as well, “A warning?”

“I may not have been able to enforce a punishment on him, but the gods will.”

 

 

The Queen was waiting for them at the top of the large stone steps in front of the Sept, occasionally waving to the people. Her father stood a few feet behind the Queen, his fur trimmed coat and neutral expression standing out against the rather jovial atmosphere. Next to him was the High Septon.

The screams of adoration here were almost deafening, the guards hand to stand shoulder to shoulder to keep the citizens from getting through.

After Rhaegar helped her off her horse they turned and briefly waved to the crowd, causing the screams to become louder.

Rhaegar grabbed her hand as they walked up the stone steps and bowed deeply to the Queen before they approached her. Rhaella smiled at them and opened her arms for them to approach. She kissed Rhaegar’s cheek and hugged him tightly before turning to Lyanna and doing the same.

Her father approached and she immediately went into his arms. He squeezed her tightly before letting her go to bow briefly to Rhaegar and shake his hand.

“Rhaegar, Lyanna,” Rhaella called as the Septon approached “this is High Septon Martine. He will be performing your blessing and your marriage.”

“It is very nice to meet you, High Septon,” Rhaegar said and the High Septon beamed as he bowed.

“It is truly an honor to perform the marriage ceremony for you and Lady Stark,” he said as he kissed Lyanna’s hand. Her cheeks were beginning to hurt from all of the forced smiling.

“It you will please follow me,” Septon Martine said and led them into the Sept.

“I understand that it is the first time you have been to the Sept?” The Septon asked her father and he nodded.

“In the North, we follow the old gods,” her father said still looking around in mild wonder at the splendor.  “We do not pray in houses of worship like this.”

“Where do you partake in prayer?” The Queen asked in genuine curiosity.  

“Wherever we feel the closest to the gods,” Her father said as he looked around the large rotunda. “Though praying in front of a Heart Tree is the most sacred place.”

“I hope to one day go to the North and see the Heart Trees,” The Queen said. “We have one here in our own godswood, but I feel they are not quite the same as the ones in the North.”

Her father smiled kindly and slightly bowed his head, “You are always welcome to the North, Your Majesty.”

Queen Rhaella smiled back. “Thank you,” she said. “Before they start the blessing ceremony, would you like a tour of the Sept, my Lord? It is not a Heart Tree, but it still is very pretty.”  

The Lord of the North nodded “Of course, Your Majesty.”

While her father toured the Sept with the Queen and the High Septon, Lyanna walked around, studying the large status of these so called gods. The ones that she was supposed to worship now.

But she wouldn’t. She had already been forced away from her home, her family; she would not be forced away from her religion. And she told Septa Prea as such when the woman told her that she would have to “forget the old ways.”

She paused in front of the statue of the Warrior, her thoughts going back to what Rhaegar had said. ‘How can a god made of stone help the people who pray to him? Or punish them?’ She thought. If he was not like her so called ‘old gods’, who were one with nature, then how did prayers manifest? And if they frowned upon a union, how would they let the couple know?

“Hello,” she heard behind her making her jump. She turned to see Rhaegar smiling at her as he held his hands up. “You looked lost in your thoughts, so I thought I’d come over and save you.”

Lyanna rolled her eyes as she smiled at him. “How noble.”

“What are you thinking about so intently?” He asked as he looked up at the statue.

Lyanna clasped her hands in front of her as she started to slowly walk towards the next statue. “If your gods are made of stone, then how do they manifest prayers or punishments?”

Rhaegar, who clasped his own hands behind his back, pursed his lips in thought. “The same way yours do, I guess, through coincidental signs and actions.”

Lyanna laughed as Rhaegar slowly reached for her hand. The She Wolf tried to contain her smile as her heart jumped, but she found she couldn’t.

“If the Mother is so compassionate,” She continued as she laced her fingers through Rhaegars, “then why would she not grant a woman’s prayer for a child?”

“The woman probably did something that displeased her, so the Mother punished her for it by not blessing her with a child.”

“That’s so cruel,” Lyanna said. Her gods were not like that. The only true insults to the gods were keeping a slave, partaking in incest, and slaying ones kin which even then could be questioned.  

“Not really,” Rheagar countered. “That is what teaches people the lessons they need to learn. Aren’t your gods considered to be rivers, forests and _stone_? Why are your gods any different from mine?”  

“My gods don’t punish their followers!” She said loudly, feeling a slight offense that the Dragon Prince had the nerve to compare her gods to his cold ones. The Queen and her father looked at her in surprise, but she just smiled and waved as an apology. “If a woman prays for the gods to bless her with a child and she does not conceive, then it’s because there is something else that needs to happen first. Not because she displeased them.”

“So it’s just a matter of perspective?” Rhaegar huffed, unconsciously responding to her irritation “What seems cruel in your religion is justice for mine. Maybe the woman did displease them and that the ‘something else’ that has to happen is because of their displeasure. Seems to me there is no difference in our religions.”

Lyanna wanted to continue the argument. Her gods and these new ones were _not_ the same, but the silence between them had become tense and she would’ve rather not spoiled the atmosphere. So for the second time that day, she let the argument go. At least Rhaegar never let go of her hand.

They continued their walk around the rotunda as the High Septon explained the Faith of the Seven to her father.

“You know,” Lyanna said after a few more moments. She tried to lighten the mood by looking at him coyly, “we will not be considered married in my religion.”

Rhaegar’s eyebrows lifted in interest. “Really?”

Lyanna nodded. “A marriage is only valid if the vows are said in front of the Heart Tree. If I were to runaway to the North, I can marry a man of my choosing.”  

“I would never allow it,” Rhaegar said in a manner that made it sound like he was joking, but there was an undertone that told Lyanna he was not.  They paused in front of the Maiden. “Maybe someday we can go to Winterfell and marry in the godswood. To make if official and all.”  

Lyanna smiled, trying to image marrying the Dragon Prince in the godswood. Rhaegar standing in front of the Heart Tree as his black attire stood out against the pristine white of the snow. The She Wolf found that she wasn’t too objective to that thought. “That would be nice.”

They fell into silence as they stared at each other. The Dragon Prince placed a stray hair behind her ear, “That man did not hurt you today?”

Lyanna shook her head. “No, he just startled me is all.”

“You should have let me arrest him. The nerve he had to lay a hand on you.”

Lyanna gave him a small smile as she blushed under his gaze. “I did not want the people to become afraid of me. I want them to love me like they love you.”  

Rhaegar grazed his hand across her cheek, “How can someone not love you?” He whispered and the blush deepened on her face.

She looked away in embarrassment, “That man didn’t,” she whispered back.

Rhaegar gently lifted her chin to get her to look at him. “He is one out of a million,” Rhaegar said still in a whisper. Neither of them said anything after that, the voices from their parents and the Septon fading out as they continued to look at each other.

Rhaegar’s presence was comforting and his deep violet eyes felt like they could see right through her. The She Wolf felt like she couldn’t look away as her heart hammered in her chest. She saw Rhaegar lean forward, felt his breathe on her face making her heart go into a frenzy.

“Come along you two!” They heard and both of them jumped apart. Looking to see who the intruder was, Lyanna scoffed when she saw Brandon looking at them with a smug grin. “Your blessing ceremony is going to start.”

Rhaegar cleared his throat as he nodded. “Shall we?” He asked her as he held out his arm for her.

She looped her arm through his and let him escort her to the kneelers that were in front of the Father statue.

Brandon waggled his eyebrows at her as she passed him. Rolling her eyes and she punched him in the chest.

As they approached the waiting party Lyanna looked at Rhaegar through her peripheral vision. There was a deep stain of red on his cheeks as he continued to look forward.

The She Wolf had to contain her smile. It was a relief to know that he was just as flustered as she was, though she wasn’t sure if it was because of being interrupted or because of what could’ve happened.

Despite her feelings of anxiety and dread because of the situation she was in, Rhaegar had recently become one of the only steadfast people in her life. They had grown closer since Harrenhal, spending almost all of their free time together getting to know one another. They spoke of everything and anything. He questioned her judgement and morals just as she questioned his.

Though there were still many secrets between them and many barriers that had to cross Lyanna realized that she liked him and that she had wanted to know what his lips on hers felt like, her eyes widen at the realization.

She suddenly stopped, making Rhaegar look at her in question. Sure she liked him, but did he like her? The She Wolf was unsure, but she knew one way to find out.

Giving him a smile, Lyanna stood on her toes and whispered in his ear. “Next time don’t hesitate.”

She felt Rhaegar hold his breath from shock. Leaning back onto her feet, she gave him what she hoped was a demure smile before walking towards the waiting party, the Dragon Prince’s stare never leaving her.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello!
> 
> Before I go onto my apology for being absent, I just want to point out that, yes I know there is no "blessing ceremony". I research everything before I write it, but the beauty of fanfiction is that you can alter a story however you want. So please don't come after me for the inconsistency. 
> 
> Anyway!I am sorry this took so long. I had almost this entire chapter written and realized that I hated it, so I started over from scratch. Even now this is not my favorite chapter and I dread publishing it, but its as good as its going to get at this point. 
> 
> I am really sorry for being gone for so long. My intention was to post this back in November, but again I hated the original draft and my school was closed for a week due to Hurricane Irma, so the fall semester was a very busy semester for me. I think it was the busiest one yet. And then my university had a huge playoff game that I went to and then Star Wars, and the holidays. Hopefully this semester (which is my last, yay!) is not as content heavy as the last one.
> 
> Sorry if there is anything that is confusing or misspelled or something. No matter how many times you proof read something, something always manages to slip by you. As always, thank you to everyone who has commented, kudo'd, and viewed my story. Please keep them coming! 
> 
> I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season and I hope everyone's 2018 is full of happiness and adventure!
> 
> I am going to try and bust out one more chapter before school starts next week. Here's to hoping!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

_“Next time don’t hesitate.”_

Rhaegar put down his quill, as his mind strayed again from the sheet of music he was trying to compose. He could not stop thinking about Lyanna; the smell of her perfume, the lovely blush that stains her cheeks or her coy smile as she walked away from him after their brief moment together in the Sept.  A smile crossed his face as he sighed.

Next to him Arthur heaved his own sigh as he closed his book. “This is the fifth time you’ve had that dumb smile on your face, what is it that has made you seem like you have drunk Milk of Poppy?” The Kingsguard leaned in closer as if sharing a secret. “Are you in love?”

Rhaegar laughed, “No? I think it’s too soon for that.” Arthur lifted his eyebrows as Rhaegar continued. “But’s everything with her is so...so thrilling! She challenges me and makes me laugh and is able to hold a conversation,” Rhaegar laughed again, “an actual conversation without talking about her family or gossip or whatever other asinine thing the other women in court talk about.”

“You might not be in love, but you certainly are besotted,” Arthur said, laughing at Rhaegar’s ridiculous expression before jokingly looking over at sheet of music. “Are you absently writing her name on the corners of the parchment?” 

Rhaegar rolled his eyes at Arthur’s ridiculousness before looking down at the piece of parchment, only to find out that the Kingsguard was right, there was a tiny _L_ written at the bottom corner of the parchment. Scoffing, the Dragon Prince crumbled the sheet and threw it at Arthur.

The Prince couldn’t help but laugh when the deadliest knight in the realm snorted. It was moments like this that made Rhaegar appreciate the Dornishman. He was the only person to not be afraid to speak freely around him. He held Rhaegar in high regard not because he was his Prince, but because they were best friends.

Rhaegar thought back to the time when he first met the light haired Dayne. On Arthur’s tenth name day, he had been sent to King’s Landing to become a knight and Rhaegar, being the King’s one and only heir, was not allowed past the Keep’s gates and had no one his age to talk to. 

So, they formed a friendship while squiring under the tutelage of Ser Willem Darry. Bonding over books, astrology, and their calluses, for the Master-at-Arms was relentless with their training. To him, Arthur wasn’t just a friend, he was his brother.

“You’re pathetic,” Arthur jested and Rhaegar was about to throw another crumpled piece of parchment before there was a rapid knock on the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” Rhaegar asked narrowing his eyes. Almost all of the other Kingsguard had a secret dalliance, though the Prince knew his best friend was the perfect Kingsguard and stuck to his vows.

It was Arthur’s turn to throw a crumpled piece of parchment at him as the Prince stood. Opening his door, Rhaegar was surprised to see Jaime Lannister standing on the other side with a look of unease on his face. It was late in the evening; the Prince didn’t think anyone was still up beside him and Arthur.

“Ser Jaime,” Rhaegar greeted. The Lannister knight was in civilian clothing and looked disheveled, as if he had been frantically looking for something. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I’m sorry to disrupt your evening, Your Highness,” Jaime said with a quick bow of his head, “but it’s about today and the man who grabbed Lady Stark?”

Rhaegar’s smile dropped, “Come in.”

“We need to find the man that attacked Lyanna,” Jaime said before clearing his throat, noticing the look of surprise on the Prince’s face at the knight’s use of Lyanna’s casual name, “I mean Lady Stark.” 

“Why?” Arthur asked with bewilderment as Jaime quickly went over to the fireplace.

“The man had this,” Jaime said as he held up a golden dagger that was no bigger than a dinner knife. “I believe he was planning on cutting Lyanna with it.”

Rhaegar and Arthur followed Jaime to the fireplace and studied the dagger he was holding up.

“It may look like it would not cause much damage, but it’s what’s at the tip. Look,” Jaime held the dagger closer to the fire place, illuminating the substance.

Rhaegar leaned into it and saw that there was a purplish sheen on the tip of it. “What is this?”

“It’s a poison,” Jaime said, “by the color of it, I believe it’s Wolfsbane.  It can be absorbed through the skin or through open wounds. It slows the heart until death. Lord Varys was right, someone in the Keep is trying to poison Lady Stark.”

“What makes you so certain that this is poison?” Arthur asked as he looked at Jaime in question.

Suddenly Jaime looked caught off guard. “My uh—” he coughed and looked to the side, “uh brother, Tyrion, gave me a book about poisons before I joined the Kingsguard. There was a chapter about Wolfsbane.”

Rhaegar took a moment to study Jaime. The Golden Lion did not hold contempt for his imp brother like Cersei did, but it was clear that Jaime was still uncomfortable talking about him. “He thought that Cersei would one day try to poison me and I should start making the antidotes,” Jaime finished.

Now it was Arthur’s turn to cough at the awkwardness the confession created. Rhaegar gave him a look before he asked Jaime, “How did you even get this?”

“I found it on the ground,” Jaime said. “I thought that it was the guards who had thrown Lyanna’s offender to the ground and it just fell from its sheath. But when I asked him about it once we returned, he said it wasn’t his. It was then that I noticed the purplish substance and realized it was that mans."

Now that Rhaegar thought about it, Lyanna had said the man had looked like he was about to faint when she wished him farewell and had thought that it was because Rhaegar had told the man the gods would bring justice upon him. But when Rhaegar himself turned to look at him, the man had indeed looked like he was about to faint, but he was frantically looking around like he had lost something.

“Why didn’t you come to us before?” Rhaegar asked angrily.

Rhaegar saw how Jaime masked his irritation “If I may speak freely, my Lord, but how do you think the Lord of the North would’ve taken it if I had barged into the Queen’s parlor during your dinner and proclaimed that Lyanna was almost poisoned?”

‘He would not have taken it well,’ Rhaegar thought. “I see your point,” he turned to Arthur, “We must send a search party at once, the man could be halfway to Oldtown.”

“I have already taken the liberty of sending some guards into the city to look for him,” Rhaegar looked at Jaime in surprise again, which made hi, stand a little straighter, “I was afraid that the man would flee the city once he realized he did not have his weapon,” he clarified.  “There are some scouting the docks as well.”

Rhaegar nodded already moving to put his doublet on, “We must join them in the search. Who else knows?”

“Besides us? One of Lady Stark’s brothers and couple of his guards. He’s in the city as well looking for the man.”

Rhaegar closed his eyes with dread. If it was the eldest Stark, things were about to get ugly for he was unforgiving in his nature and was looking for any reason to bring Lyanna home.

“Which brother?” Arthur asked, he too sensing dread at the thought that it was the Wild Wolf. Though Rhaegar knew his sense of dread was different. Rhaegar’s for the fight that would no doubt ensue with the Starks, Arthur for the death he would most likely have to apologize for.

Jaime cinched his eyebrows in thought, “Not the loud rude one, the quiet one with manners.”

Both Rhaegar and Arthur sighed in relief. “Eddard,” they said at the same time.

Just then there was a knock on the door and Jaime rushed to open it. There stood a Northern guard, looking winded but triumphant. “We found him.”

 

 

It had been hours since they had dragged the man - _Mervin_ \- down into the dungeons, but Mervin still hadn't said a word. No matter how many bones were broken, or lashes he received he never broke. He was sitting on his knees in the middle of the room with his arms and legs tightly shackled to chains that were strung from the wall. His head was hung low and blood dripped out of him in various places.

Rhaegar and Eddard had been watching from a corner of the room as the two Kingsguard performed the harsh interrogation. Arthur was patient, and slow to anger, but became brutal when needed. He did not like having to raise his hand or his sword to someone but knew that sometimes violence was necessary.

 Jaime on the other hand was impatient and quick to anger. He was ruthless with his assault, which gave Rhaegar a surprising reminder that sometimes, Jaime was his father’s son.

 Rhaegar was a patient man, like Arthur, he was usually slow to anger and did not like to raise his sword to someone. He didn’t know how long they have been down here in the dungeon, but with the lack of sleep and the blase arrogance the man - _Mervin_ \- exuded after each time Arthur or Jaime questioned him, the Prince felt his composure slipping.

He cracked his neck trying to relieve the tension he was feeling before moving towards Mervin. Arthur grabbed the man by the hair and lifted his face to Rhaegar’s making Mervin cry out in pain. His face was covered in large bleeding cuts, his eyes were bruised and swollen. 

He looked Mervin in the eyes and behind the man’s bravado he saw fear. _“Fear can be so powerful. It makes a man weak,”_ Tywin Lannister told him after the uprising in Duskendale _“If you can exploit their fear, then they're nothing but clay in your hand.”_

“Who hired you?” the Prince asked gritting his teeth as Mervin smiled at him, blood staining his teeth and lips. Anger swelled within him.

Storming over to the wall, the Prince grabbed a torch before walking back over to Mervin. “I asked you a question,” he said huffing with anger. “Who hired you?”

Mervin said nothing, just kept his gaze to the cellar ceiling. Rhaegar began breathing erratically as his irritation grew. “WHO HIRED YOU?”

Still, the man said nothing. “Alright then,” Rhaegar seethed before moving the torch’s flame under the mans chained hand. It was a few moments before Mervin began to scream.

He removed the flame, handing the torch to Jaime. “Who hired you?”

Mervin cried in pain before looking up at him, tears blurring his eyes. Specks of blood filled spit flew from his mouth as spoke. “Fuck you and your little wolf whore.”

It suddenly felt like something was shifting as everything slowed down. He couldn’t hear anything and everything outside his cone of vision was blurry. It was as if he wasn’t in his own body. All he knew was that he had begun to punch Mervin. Repeatedly. A shiver of satisfaction went up Rhaegar’s spine every time he felt his fist collide with Mervin’s face.

It wasn’t until he heard Arthur call his name that he slowly started to come to. “Rhaegar!” Arthur called urgently as he tried to pull the Prince away from the prisoner. “Rhaegar stop!”  

Rhaegar let himself be pulled away. When his vision cleared, he saw Jaime and Eddard looking at him in alarm. He noticed the bit of fear in the Quiet Wolf’s eyes before Rhaegar looked to Arthur. Immediately recognizing the question in them. _‘You blacked out again didn’t you?_ ’

He shrugged Arthur’s hold off, as he took the offered cloth from Jaime, he noticed that Mervin had been knocked unconscious due to the sudden assault.

The atmosphere was tense, as neither the Kingsguard, the Quiet Wolf or the Prince knew what to say. Rhaegar had his moments of anger during his ‘blackouts’ as Lewyn called them, though he had never gotten violent. But what had scared him the most was that he _enjoyed_ the violence.

Before he could dwell more on it someone cleared their throat. “My Lord,” his squire Matthias called hesitantly as he stood at the entrance of the cell. “The sun will be rising soon and you have a meeting with Lord Stark after breakfast.”

Rhaegar sighed in irritation as the tense atmosphere broke, “Fuck,” he muttered. He had forgotten that Rickard Stark had asked to going riding. He had almost told Matthias to cancel the ride, but the Dragon Prince did not want to offend Lord Stark the day before Rhaegar was to marry his daughter. “Arthur.”

The Dornish knight looked away from the stare he was sharing with Eddard. Rhaegar almost snapped that he demanded to know what their silent conversation was about, but he suddenly felt exhausted. “You and Jaime stay here and get an answer from him. Use the fire if you have to.”

He didn’t see their reactions as he marched out of the room, Eddard following behind him.

He could feel Ned’s questioning gaze burning a hole in his back the entire way back to Maegor’s Holdfast. Luckily, the Quiet Wolf knew his place, but he didn’t miss the mistrust and apprehension in Eddard’s eyes.

Before Rhaegar could up with an explanation, Ned just bowed his head and bid him a good day, hastily making his way back into the Maidenvault.

The Prince took a deep breath, placing a hand his forehead in hopes that it’ll keep the headache away. Taking another deep breath, he walked into the Holdfast, calling for the servants to bring him hot water for a bath.

 

 

The meeting between him and Lord Stark had ended up being a secret meeting with six of the nine noble houses, their heirs, and their vassal houses in the middle of the Kingswood. Lord Varys and Jon Connington were there as well, which made Rhaegar apprehensive to speak of an overthrow when Varys loyalty was questionable. 

_“I realized how difficult it would be for you to gather the nobel houses with Maester Pycelle constantly watching you. So, I have done it for you.”_ Rickard has said. _“Now is the time for you to petition for their support if Tywin Lannister goes through with his threat of war.”_

Rhaegar pinched the bridge of his nose as the Princess of Dorne and Lord Jon Arryn of the Vale argued. The Lord of the Vale had just claimed neutrality due to his affection for Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark.

“Would you kill your own son?” Jon asked angrily.

“Yes,” the Princess of Dorne stated haughtily, “If it was for the best. We are not cowards nor are we blinded by affections.”

The tent exploded into arguments at the insult and the headache that Rhaegar had thought had begun to fade came back in full force. He closed his eyes as he tried to will the pain away.

Rickard Stark slammed his fist on the table to silence them. “Robert Baratheon has not agreed to side with Tywin Lannister. There is some hope yet that he will not engage in war at all.”

“How do we know that it is Tywin and not Robert who is planning this war?” Quellon Greyjoy asked. Rhaegar looked at the Lord of the Iron Islands. The Greyjoy’s, like the Starks, rarely left their islands. Arthur had told him that the only reason Quellon had come to the tourney is to see if the rumors about the Kings rapid decline were true. “Robert could feel slighted for having the woman he was supposed to marry taken from him by the King.”

“Tywin would want us to think that this war is Robert’s idea,” Jon Connington said. “He will try to make it seem like he is neutral until the odds are in his favor where he will emerge as the conquering hero that started the war.”

“Besides, Robert is too smart of a warrior, strategically so,” Brandon said, “he would not reveal he is planning a war until he had all of his flanks covered and his first battle won.”

“I agree with Brandon. Robert is much too smart of a soldier to reveal he is planning a war.” Rickard said as he looked at the map on the table. “We must be cautious and we must remain united,” he looked at the Princess of Dorne and Jon Arryn, “fighting each other is not going to win a war."

“You can have the money, the men, the arms to fight a war, but it does not guarantee that you’ll win,” Lady Olenna Tyrell said. Her two tall gardens standing close behind her and her son Mace.

Lord Luther Tyrell had recently passed and his son Mace had taken his place as Lord of Highgarden. But it was clear to Rhaegar that it was Olenna who ruled with the way she would murmur to her son before he spoke. “One way to try and prevent the war from happening is by removing that canker on the throne _before_ that arrogant fool in Casterly Rock.”

There were murmurs of agreement before all eyes turned to Rhaegar. There were looks pity and looks of mild anger, as if the King’s insanity was his fault. 

“Quite honestly I do not know why it has not already been done,” Olenna continued, her beady eyes burning right into Rhaegar. “If I may be so bold, Your Highness, you had seen your father rapidly declining for years, yet you did nothing about it.”

The atmosphere tensed with that statement, but Rhaegar stayed calm. The Reach had the largest military in the realm and he needed them. If he insulted their Lady, then he would lose their potential support. “I know the King--my father, has been turning this kingdom into a nightmare. I had been ignorant for too long and had refused to see what was happening to him,” he said and almost immediately the Queen of Thrones retorted.

“And how many had to die because of your ignorance?” She asked sharply. “How many continue to be threatened to burn because of it? Is it not true that your own betrothed is being forced to marry you on the threat of her family burning?”

“You overstep your boundaries, Lady Olenna” Brandon Stark said as the others murmured their agreement.

“No, Lady Olenna is right,” Rhaegar said firmly. “Lady Lyanna was threatened, as were all the Starks if Lady Lyanna did not agree. I do not take joy in the fact that my betrothed is being forced to marry me nor do take joy in the fact that many have died because of my bad judgment.

“I want to make things right and I cannot do it alone. If I go through with removing the King from the throne I need support from the lords of the realm. If the people of the realm do not take this coup lightly, this can lead to Tywin having the reasoning to start a war.”

“The realm loves you, it is very clear when you walk the streets that they are eager for you to be King,” Doran Martell said. “Why would they be upset?”

“You would be surprised to see how many still support the King despite his rapid decline into insanity,” Lord Varys said from the corner of the room. 

Rickard Stark stood, causing the rest of the room to stand. “It is imperative that we remain united. There is a war coming. It could be prevented if King Aerys is removed from the throne, but Rhaegar cannot do it alone. After previously conversing with my lords and vassals, we have decided that the North will stand behind Crown Prince Rhaegar in his quest to remove his father the King from the Iron Throne and claim his right as heir apparent,” he said.

The northern lords cheered. “And if the time comes, we are prepared to fight in the name of King Rhaegar against the usurper Tywin Lannister.”

“Dorne too, will stand with House Targaryen against the usurpers,” the Princess of Dorne said, looking at Jon Arryn as if he were the scum beneath her shoe. “And will stand beside Prince Rhaegar in the overthrowing of King Aerys.”  

Their proclamations had started a chain reaction as some nobles vowed their full allegiance, while others murmured their hesitancy.

A page had come in and whispered to Lord Stark. “We will have to resume this another time. It has become late in the morning and the King is questioning where Lord Varys and Lord Connington are.”

As the lords left, Rhaegar remained in his seat examining the map that was laying on the table in front of him, placing pegs on the lands that had sworn their allegiance. He had the North, Dorne, the Riverlands, the Iron Islands, House Redwyne, House Tarly, House Cafferen, House Grandison, House Rowan, and House Grafton.

When he looked up again, he saw that only he, Lord Stark, and Brandon remained. “Our swords are easily pushed over 100,000,” Brandon said as he looked at the map. “If war is to breakout, we could easily defeat Tywin’s army.”

“War is not like that Bran, you know that” Rickard said, “Olenna was right when she said that you can have more men, arms, and money but that does not guarantee you will win.”

Brandon looked at his father, “What will Tywin do if he approaches the other houses and they refuse?”

“He will go to the free cities no doubt, rally the sellswords. He will convince Jon Arryn to side with him, so the Vale will be his,” Rhaegar said as he stood and pinched the bridge of his nose again.

Mace Tyrell, reciting what his mother had told him, had said that House Tyrell would not make a decision on who to support until the time came for it. The only House to swear their allegiance from the Reach was House Tarly and Rhaegar thought that was more for Randyll Tarly’s love for battle than devotion to his Prince. “We only have House Tarly from the Reach. If we had the full support of the Reach then we would--”

A warm, strong hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him in mid-sentence. It had been years since a fatherly gesture was given to him and for a moment the Dragon Prince felt calm.

“Lord Tarly is an excellent ally. He is more formidable than Robert on the battlefield,” Rickard said, his own voice gruff from exhaustion. For a moment Rhaegar wondered if the war weighed heavy on the Warden of the North’s mind like it did Rhaegar’s. “I will work on Olenna. When she agrees then the rest of the Reach will agree as well. We will discuss this more after the wedding festivities.”

Rhaegar laughed, he had almost forgotten that he was to be married tomorrow. As they walked back to their horses, the Prince stopped the Warden of the North. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “Without your help I’m not sure this meeting would have ever taken place or if any of the Houses would have pledged their oaths to me.”

Rickard gave him a half smile as he laid another warm calming hand on his shoulder. “You are welcome, Your Highness. Now it is time for you to rest. Rest leads the way to good patience, and if you had not already seen, good patience is what you will need when you are married to Lyanna.”

Rhaegar smiled as he nudged his horse to follow Rickard and Brandon out of the Kingswood. Despite the awful night and the trying morning, just the thought of Lyanna made him smile.

 

 

Lyanna sat in her vanity chair biting her nails, trying to ignore the fact that tomorrow was her wedding day. Every time she thought about it, she felt ill. Though her relationship with Rhaegar had improved, it was the thought of everything that came with marrying him that made her feel that way. 

She vaguely watched as Nera explained to Jaclin the morning process to get a royal lady ready for the day. The Queen was throwing a lunch in her honor as a way to welcome her into the Queen’s family. All of the women of the noble houses were invited.  

“Don’t do that,” Taria said as she pulled Lyanna’s hand away from her mouth, “you’re going to ruin your nails.”

 “I can’t help it,” Lyanna said as she studied her nails. They were short and uneven with small patches of dry skin on her fingers that lingered from living in the North. “I’m nervous.”

 Taria smiled at her a she took Lyanna’s hand again and looked at her nails “Don’t take it out on your nails. Here,” she said and pulled a jar of white cream out of  her box that was sitting on the vanity, “rub this on your hands and face before bed and it’ll help soften your skin.” 

“What is this?” Lyanna asked as she open the jar and smelled it. It was almost odorless.

“Oil from the coconut,” Taria said as Lyanna continued to study the liquid. Old Nan gave her oil like this once so she did not develop scaly skin from the cold like Benjen unfortunately did. _“You wouldn’t want a suitor to turn away because you have scales like a lizard,”_ she had said.

The She-Wolf had scoffed at Old Nan, saying she didn’t care what a man thought of her skin. But little did she know, her defiance at normal skincare would come back to haunt her.

“What else do you have in your beauty chest?” Jaclin asked as she and Nera walked over to look in it.

Taria’s face lit up. Lyanna had come to learn that beauty was important for the people of Dorne. Even Arthur Dayne, come to find out, took better care of his skin and hair than Lyanna did. _“It’s just a part of our life,”_ Taria had once said explaining that beauty was enforced at a young age. It was no surprise to the She-Wolf when her handmaiden started pulling out vials of oil, jars of cream, tins of make-up, tubes of kohl, and lip stains.

“What is _this_?” Jaclin asked, pulling out a brown leather book from the bottom of the chest.

“Ah!” Taria said as she took the book and flipped through the pages. “It’s a book of secrets. It has beauty recipes from all over the known world.”

Lyanna moved the book lower so she could read the page. It was a recipe for the removal of body hair. When she was eleven she had once heard Bran say that a shaved woman was a clean woman. Not wanting to be seen as dirty, she had asked Old Nan if she could shave which caused the old woman to huff with disgust, “ _Shaving is for women of ill repute_ ,” she had said before shuffling her along to her lessons. 

The She-Wolf felt her eyes go wide as she finished reading the recipe, “wash quickly with hot water so the _flesh doesn’t come off_?”

Taria laughed as she snapped the book closed. “That is a more archaic method. I prefer sugaring,” she said as she pulled out a jar of what looked like honey and opened the top.  “It rips the hair off.”

Lyanna grimaced as she played with the sticky substance on her fingertip, “Which one hurts less?”

“They both hurt, but it’s worth it.  Lewyn goes wild when my legs are smooth,”Taria said as she grinned and hummed at a memory.

“You have a lot of oils,” Nera said as picked up a vial and smelled the content inside, nodding at the pleasing sent.

“Oils have so many uses,” Taria said as she took the vial and smelled it too. “For instance, peppermint, good for headaches, stomach upset, and most importantly helps with awful breath.” She pulled out another vial as the three other women giggled. Taria held it out for them to sniff it. It smelled like the sea. “Sea Buckthorn oil, good for when your face starts to wrinkle,” she said.

“Is that what you use?” Jacline teased and Taria gave her a grin as she applied some of it on her face.

“You wish you will look as good as I do at my age,” Taria huffed and Lyanna squint her eyes at her playfully.

“And how old is that exactly?” 

“Brat,” The Dornishwoman said with a smile as she gently squeezed Lyanna’s nose.

The four women laughed as a knock sounded on the door before Ser Barristan announced that it was the assistant of the Keeper of the Wardrobe coming to bring her dress. 

 Lyanna groaned, and Jaclin smiled at her as she placed her hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her to stand.

 

 

Lyanna looked at herself as Nera placed a flower crown of pink roses and white baby's breath on her head. She gave Nera a look in the mirror. Her handmaiden had once said she hated flower crowns. She saw them as tacky and worried that the crown could attract bees. 

 “It’s a garden party,” Nera explained before Lyanna could ask her why she picked a flower crown. “And the Queen is wearing one.”

 Lyanna smiled at the masked disdain on Nera’s face. “So because the Queen wears one, I do to?”

“Apparently so, it’ll show that you two are amicable and that she welcomes you into her family.” Nera replied. “Besides, it’ll match with the flowers on your sleeves.”

Lyanna looked down at her dress, it was ivory in color with embroidered lace and a corseted back. The sleeves were long and caped with small embroidered flowers on it. Pearls were sewn from her front neckline to the back.

It was very pretty, as were all her new dresses. But she still longed for the days at Winterfell where she could get away with wearing pants and a tunic.

There was a knock on her door as her father was announced. “Come in,” she called as Nera finished pinning the crown to her head and moved on to tighten the corset strings. She smiled at her father as he came in, she could tell that he was exhausted but he smiled back at her nonetheless. “Good morning, Papa.”

“Good morning,” he said as he bent down and kissed her cheek. “I was wondering if I could talk to you alone?” 

Lyanna nodded, feeling concern at the serious look on his face. “Give us a moment, please,” she said and Nera, Taria, and Jaclin bowed before leaving the room.

Her father sat on the chest in front of her bed as she sat at her vanity facing him. She placed a hand on his cheek, she had never seen him this worn down before. “Are you alright?”

Rickard sighed deeply as he grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly. “I don’t know how else to tell you this, but Tywin Lannister is threatening to usurp Aerys and Rhaegar by means of war. There was a meeting early this morning about what would happen if he goes through with his threat.”

Lyanna gasped. “What?” This was the first time she has heard of this. Normally her brothers, and sometimes her father, were open with her about military matters. Even Rhaegar had spoken to her about military tactics and news when he had found out that she had knowledge about the subject. “How long had he been threatening this?

“Since the King denied Tywin’s offer of marriage between Cersei and Rhaegar, but I suspect he has been planning this before Duskendale.”

“What is his reasoning behind it?” Lyanna asked. “How would he even go about it?”

“He plans to overthrow the King and start an uprising. Once House Targaryen is unseated he will place Robert Baratheon on the throne.”

“Robert!?” Lyanna asked “That whoremongering fool?”

“Robert cares little for the affairs of state, so Tywin will easily be able to take control like he did with Aerys. And there is no doubt in my mind that he will marry his daughter to Robert with the promise of the Lannister Army and the gold securing the power to the Lannisters. ”

“Then why not rally the other houses? Surely if our army is bigger than Tywin’s we can defeat them!”

Rickard smiled at her, “You are so much like Bran, it sometimes worries me.” He sighed again as he leaned back against the bed. “It is not as easy as it sounds. There are many people who are loyal to Tywin, just like there are many people who are loyal to the King despite his cruelty.

“The plan for now is to quietly remove King Aerys from the throne. But if it is know that he was forced to abdicate then it can be seen as an act of war and the loyalist will rise up with Tywin.”

“So what is going to happen if Tywin goes through with his war? Or you can’t remove the King?” Lyanna asked suddenly worried. If a war were to break out then that would mean everyone she loved would be forced to fight. Her father and brothers, Rhaegar, Arthur and possibly even Jaime. She shook her head at the thought. 

“Many houses pledged their support to Rhaegar,” her father said, “but we need the full support of the Reach. That is where I need your help.”

“What must I do?” 

“I want you to court Lady Olenna,” Rickard said as clasped her hand between his own. “You are intelligent and strong-willed, that will interest her. When you have her attention, try to appeal to her. It might sway her to make a decision.” 

“I will try my best,” she said as she allowed her father to pull her to her feet.

Rickard kissed her forehead.“Be cautious,” he said as he pulled away from her, “there is a reason she is called the Queen of Thorns.”

 

 

Lyanna smiled at Ashara Dayne as the Dornishwoman nodded her head at Lyanna in greeting before turning her attention back to Elia Martell, who had been trying to silently cough into her handkerchief.

The garden was full of activity as women from all over the realm packed into it, hoping to get a moment with the queen. The Queen looked radiant as she sat on a cushioned ottoman under the pergola across the way, smiling and laughing as women crowded around her.

“This is boring,” Taria whispered as Nera shushed her, but Lyanna nodded her head in agreement. This was boring. It was hot in the gardens and she didn’t dare move from her spot. It was under a pergola that was partially hidden by a large yellow alder bush. It was also next to the bay, which gave a small relieving breeze that Lyanna was sure Ser Barristan Selmy was grateful for seeing as the poor Kingsguard was in full regalia.

Lyanna saw the wife of Ser Roland Crakehall approaching. She was a small woman with light hair who always looked like she had smelled something foul. The She-Wolf moved herself farther behind the alder bush and Ser Barristan, trying to remain out of the approaching woman’s view, much to the Kingsguard amusement. 

It’s not that she didn’t want to converse, it was just that every time she tried the women would brush her off or would make a passive comment on how her or her daughter was supposed to marry the Prince, it got tiring and a little annoying.

Plus, she was keeping a lookout for Lady Olenna who had not yet shown.

Lyanna heard someone laugh loudly from across the garden and saw Cersei Lannister laughing at something a lady of the Westerlands was saying. She was wearing a light red dress with golden accents. Her blonde hair was pulled back and curled. Her hands were clasped in front of her and she stood tall with her shoulders back. She looked every bit a princess as the sun shined brightly on her, making her hair seem like it was glowing.

The Golden Lioness’ eyes scanned over the crowd before they landed on Lyanna’s and when they did, they narrowed.

The She-Wolf cursed as Cersei excused herself from the woman she was talking to and began to make her way over to her. Walking away was out of the question. That would make her seem like she was afraid of Cersei and the last thing she wanted to be seen as was a coward. So she straightened her shoulders and gave a simple nod of her head as Cersei stopped in front of her.

Cersei smirked, looking at Lyanna’s handmaidens. “A simpleton, a bastard, and a whore,” she said with a sneer as she eyed each of Lyanna’s handmaidens. “Quite a company you keep. You know they say you are who you keep company with.”

“Lady Cersei,” Lyanna said cordially, aware of the many women suddenly looking at them. “I notice that you are down one ladies maid, your father's coin running out that you are unable to afford your friends?”

Cersei scoffed before picking an imaginary piece of thread off of Lyanna’s shoulder. It took everything she had to restrain herself to not slap Cersei’s hand away from her.

“It’s pretty sad,” Cersei started with feigned friendliness as she sized Lyanna, “that even in the most expensive cloth, you are still an ugly Wolf Girl.”

Taria started to charge but Lyanna held up her arm, stopping her handmaiden. Lyanna hated the way the comment stung. Growing up, the servant girls around Winterfell would whisper about her looks, especially when she started to wear pants and tunics more than dresses. But she wouldn’t give Cersei the satisfaction of seeing that her comment had an effect on the her.

So she gave Cersei the kindest smile, knowing one of the ways to hit the arrogant girl where it hurts. She spoke low so only Cersei could hear, “That’s not what your brother thinks.”

The smirk immediately died on Cersei’s face. Her emerald eyes lit with fury, “You little bitc—”

“I would watch your mouth,” they heard from beside them. Lady Olenna was standing there with her two guards and her good-daughter Alerie Hightower. “You would not want the King to hear that you are insulting a member of his family, especially seeing as your father has slighted the King by not showing for his eldest son’s wedding.”

“Any slight the King feels is brought upon himself,” Cersei haughtily.

The Queen of Thorns scoffed, “You are just like your father.” Cersei was about to smile but Olenna quipped “Do not smile, that was not a compliment.”

Alerie’s eyes got wide “Mother! You should not speak to her that—”

“I can speak to her however I want. And stop calling me mother!” Olenna snapped, her eyes not leaving Cersei. “Leave us, I would like to speak to the future princess.”

Lyanna didn’t miss the way Cersei’s eyes slightly narrowed at that. The Golden Lioness sniffed before turning and walking away, her handmaidens following close behind her. 

“She is the worst sort,” Olenna said as they watched Cersei leave the garden. Before looking at Alerie and Lyanna’s handmaidens, “Did you not hear me? Leave us.”

Taria looked affronted at the harsh dismissal but said nothing as she followed Nera, Jacline, and Alerie towards the fountain in the middle of the gardens.

Lyanna’s heart started pounding as she realized that she and Olenna were alone. “No need to look so frightened, dear I am not going to bite,” Olenna said as she started to walk towards a table under the pergola. One of the large guards pulled out a chair for their Lady, and as Olenna sat down she looked at Lyanna expectantly. “You can sit down,” she said with a friendly smile, her features and tones were much softer than they were when she was talking to Cersei.

Lyanna quickly went over and sat in the chair that Ser Barristan had pulled out for her. She thanked him as a servant quickly came over with a decanter of water.

“Would you like some candied almonds?” Olenna offered and Lyanna perked up at the mention of her favorite sweet.

“I love candied almonds!” Lyanna said, before scaling back her enthusiasm. Her cheeks burning with embarrassment.  

Olenna smiled at her, “So does your father,” she said before turning to the servant pouring the water “Bring us some candied almonds.” The servant bowed and scurried away, leaving Lyanna and Olenna alone again. 

Lyanna felt like she had to sit at the edge of her in apprehension. She had just seen The Queen of Thorns snappishly dismiss Cersei Lannister, yet here she was suddenly smiling and being mildly friendly.

There were a few moments of silence as the two stared at each other before Lyanna broke the silence, “I am sorry to hear about Lord Luthor.”

“Don’t be. He was a fool. Rode right off a cliff whilst hawking,” Olenna said exasperatedly. “Now the Reach is stuck with my oaf of a son as its Lord Paramount.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Lyanna didn’t know what to say and was relieved when the servant had returned with a bowl of candied almonds. “Let me give you a piece of advice,” Olenna said as the servant ladeled the almonds onto Olenna’s plate. “Beat your son’s when whenever possible, it will force them to listen to you more.”

“O-oh,” Lyanna said. Despite the trouble her and her brothers had gotten into, her father had never raised a hand to them for punishment. “I will keep that advice in mind.”

Olenna took a sip of water before leaning back in her chair, suddenly looking at Lyanna with a critical gaze. “I assume your father has told you to speak to me?” She asked, looking Lyanna straight in the eye.

Lyanna opened and closed her mouth. She did not want to admit that her father had indeed told her to court Lady Olenna. “Oh uh—”

“Do not even try to deny it, I can already see you are a horrible liar,” Olenna said with a small amused smile on her face. “You face turns red and you look to the side.”

Lyanna laughed as she wondered if this feeling of embarrassment would ever subside. “I did not know I even did that.”

“When you are as old as I am, you pick up on everyone’s idiosyncrasies,” Olenna said as she sipped her water. “I have heard your father’s and the Prince’s plea for alliances with the war against Tywin. It is a hard decision for many, the kingdom was prosperous and peaceful for many years when Tywin was Hand of the King.” 

“Yet you remain undecided, why?” Lyanna asked before sipping her own water.

“The thought of Tywin with all of that power again gives me an ill feeling. And simply wars are costly,” Olenna said putting her goblet down. “They are a waste of resources and men. And for what? An iron chair?”

“It’s more than just a chair. It’s the promise of continued prosperity and security for the people. The assurance that the kingdom remains as one.”

Olenna chuckled without amusement, “Prosperity and security? The people are afraid. They are worried if one farts the wrong way then the King will call for them to burn. The people no longer have love for their King.”

“But the people love Rhaegar! They know he will be an excellent king.”

“Who’s to say that Robert would not be an excellent king? He is smart, tenacious, charming. The people could easily love him like they do the Prince.”

“Robert may be smart, tenacious, and charming but he is lackadaisical and care littles for things that he has no interest in. He will run the coffers dry with petty spending and will let people run the realm for him. King Aerys may be causing fear and hatred within the kingdom, but Rhaegar is different.”

“How can we trust that Rhaegar will not turn into his father? King Aerys was a sane man, a good man. Yet here we are now on the brink of war because of him. How could we trust the Mad King’s son when the apple typically does not fall far from the tree?”

“Because Rhaegar is not his father!” Lyanna snapped, angry at this woman’s assumptions of Rhaeger. “If you are so worried about placing your trust in your Prince than place your trust in me! Trust me that I will not allow Rhaegar to treat the kingdom the way the King does.

“Trust me that if the Prince is anything like his father and he starts to descend into madness then I will remove him from the throne myself. Give Rhaegar a chance, he _deserves_ a chance.”

Lyanna stood, signalling for Taria, Nera, and Jacline. “You can stand by your inaccurate assumption of the Prince, Lady Olenna and make the decisions to side with Tywin Lannister. But I _know_ Rhaegar will be an excellent king and when we win this war you will regret that you had ever made an assumption such as this.”

Olenna opened her mouth to retort, but Lyanna did not want to hear what the sour old woman had to say. “Thank you for your time, Lady Olenna,” she bowed her head, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day,” she said and walked away.

 

 

The Keep was quiet; it was almost like the calm before the storm. Lyanna looked out into the city from one of the balconies off of the Queen’s ballroom, the breeze from the bay cooling her sweaty skin. She still felt agitated from her discussion with Olenna Tyrell. She probably did not help her father’s cause, but the audacity of the ‘Queen of Thorns’ to make assumptions about Rhaegar when she didn’t even know him rubbed Lyanna the wrong way.

Lyanna didn’t know Rhaegar that well either, but she had gotten to know enough about him to see that he would be a great King. He just needed help to ascend to the throne. The King would not go down without a fight and with Tywin’s threat, Rhaegar would need help more than ever.

She heard footsteps behind her before her father’s large frame came into view as he leaned over the stone railing next to her.

“Your mother would be very proud of you, you know,” Rickard said after a few minutes of silence, “at the woman you’ve become.”

Lyanna smiled as she looped her arm through his and hugged it tightly, “I wish she were here to give me words of encouragement. Just the thought of getting married tomorrow is making me feel sick.”

Her father started to chuckle “You know, your mother was so nervous on our wedding day she got sick right in front of the Heart Tree.”

“No!” Lyanna said as she laughed. Her father rarely spoke of her mother, the pain from her death never fully healing.

“She was mortified. Thought that the gods would disgrace us due to the slight. Luckily, I think the gods found it funny seeing as they blessed us with four beautiful children and a happy marriage.”

Lyanna laughed as she thought of her mother. Her sweet smile and grey eyes. “I miss her,” she said softly. She may not be getting married to the man she loves, but it is still every girls dream to have their mothers with them on their wedding day.

“I do too. Every day.” Rickard hugged her close.

They stood in silence watching the moonlight dance across the city in the distance. “Papa, I’m scared.”

“I know you are,” he said. “Anyone would be if they were in your place.” He turned him to her and gently grasped her by the shoulders. “Always remember, you are a Stark of Winterfell. We are the dynasty of the First Men, the ones who have the blood of the dire wolves. And wolves do not howl to the Sun, do not cower from the Stag, and we certainly do not bow to the Lion.”

She hugged her father tightly. Tomorrow she was to be married. Tomorrow she was going to be Crown Princess. She was going to be part of the Mad King’s family. She was going to have to have children and play the role of dutiful wife.

She suddenly felt bile rise in her throat as she leaned over the balcony rail and got sick.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh hi?  
> I am so sorry for such a long delay, so much has happened since the last update! I graduated undergrad, I got into grad school, I took some trips (which is partly why this update took so long). 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented and kudo'd! It really means a lot to me. I hope to update a little more often compared to having a six month gap seeing as I am free for the summer! 
> 
> If something doesn't make sense or there are grammatical errors, I apologize I stay up super late writing this so sometimes things slip by me. If you have any questions or suggestions please let me know!
> 
> Also, I feel like Dorne has high standards of beauty because they are based on the Moorish who, if I remembered correctly, where very hygienic people and introduced a lot of hygienic products like deodorant. Plus GRRM said that GoT has better hygiene compared to the actual Medieval times. Happy reading!


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